Reaching Out into the Darkness
by Ceridwen Lucius
Summary: Kuki Urie- cold, aloof, seemingly untouchable -visited her coffee shop often and caught her interest. She wanted to reach out to the lonely man trapped behind the walls he built to protect himself but risked rejection and humiliation by doing so. All he had to do was reach back to save them both from the darkness.
1. Coffee at 4:03 AM

Miyu glanced at her watch. 4:00 AM exactly. He would be here soon. Time to prepare his coffee.

Step one: heat the water. With the flick of a wrist the electric kettle was switched on.

Step two: measure and grind the beans. She always liked to complete this step before he arrived because the clanking of the metal measuring spoon against the glass jar and the whirring of the grinder appeared to annoy him.

Step three: prepare the cup. Using water already heated in another kettle, she poured it into the plain, white run of the mill coffee cup to heat the ceramic. Slowly, she poured the water down the sink drain. After setting the single cup ceramic brew basket on top of the warmed cup, she rinsed the white paper filter to wash away any unwanted flavors or debris.

The bell on the front door jingled to announce the arrival of the customer. Another time check reveal the time to be 4:03. He had arrived right on time as usual.

Miyu fitted the cleaned filter into the brewer. Her eyes followed him to the last corner booth. His usual seat.

"Welcome, sir. I will be with you soon," she advised him receiving no reply in return.

One corner of her mouth lifted into a knowing smile. He was horribly predictable in his stoic attitude and almost anti-social manners.

The man in the double breasted white coat and black dress slacks slid across the inviting soft brown leather to position himself by the window. After taking off his headphones, he ceremoniously laid them on the table beside his newspaper, carefully gathering the thin cord and curling it into a neat circle.

She knew the paper he brought with him was yesterday's edition because today's had not yet been delivered. It would arrive soon. Promptly at 4:07 at her request, granted due to prepayment and large tips to the man who sold papers at his corner booth.

Miyu took care of her customers. She learned their favorite coffees, their preferred brewing methods, if they took cream or sugar...all of their preferences. Spooning his favorite mix of dark roast Colombian and light roast Ethiopian grounds into the filter, she waited for the water to be ready. A few seconds later, the heating indicator light winked off.

Pouring slowly, she wet the grounds thoroughly before filling the container completely to brew a full cup of dark black coffee. No cream or sugar. Just blacker than black like his unusually shaped eyes that were almost triangular. Two small moles were placed perfectly parallel to his lower eyelashes toward the outer corner of his left eye.

She noted many small details about him. For instance, he had gotten a haircut recently, his undercut freshly shaved and the ends of his super straight black hair flawlessly aligned into a semi-bowl cut on top without a single uneven strand.

The doorbell rang signalling someone else had entered.

"Oh, hello," she greeted the paper man warmly.

The older gentleman bowed respectfully since she was the proprietor of the shop and a good benefactor to him. His face crinkled from his mouth to his eyes with numerous lines of old age and happiness when he smiled. He appeared to have led a humble life but a joyful one.

Miyu envied him in his placid contentment but returned his kind smile. She poured him a large white paper cup to the brim with the plain brewed coffee she had set to percolate in time to be ready for his arrival.

"Thank you, Miss," he said gratefully, bowing again. "Here's today's paper. Fresh off the presses!"

"Thank you, Mr. Tamura," she returned, pouring a little cream and dropping two sugar cubes into his cup.

She stirred it seven times, as he had told her to many times until she remembered, then handed him the cup without a lid so he could immediately take a sip. Her hand grasped the paper outstretched to her to complete their exchange.

"Oooh, hot!" he hissed, but drank it anyway with tiny plumes of steam swirling into his nose and across his wrinkled cheeks.

Miyu smiled an ear to ear grin of amusement. He always did that knowing darn good and well it would be scalding hot. She had no idea how the man could take a drink of the searing hot liquid only a few degrees cooler than boiling lava without scorching his lips and throat.

"Have a good day, Miss," he called, waving behind him as he left.

Miyu removed the brewer from the cup, setting it in the sink. She placed the cup on a saucer, setting a short handled silver spoon on the dish. He liked to stir absentmindedly while reading his paper. Perhaps it was a comforting gesture that somehow calmed him, allowing him to escape from whatever awful thoughts plagued his mind. She tucked the 'fresh off the presses' paper under her arm and picked up the coffee.

The paper would be old news by now in today's world, but the man's paper he presently read was even older news. The world moved too fast nowadays, carrying bad news at terrifyingly faster rates every day, available at our fingertips with the few clicks of a mouse. But this man liked the old fashioned way, reading words printed on paper with ink. She liked that.

Miyu sat the cup down in front of him, careful not to spill, turning the handle to his right so he could immediately grasp it with his right hand without having to fuss with turning the cup. She doubted he noticed since his paper covered his face, but these small details were important to her. Without saying anything, she set the new paper down, fitting it carefully between his coffee and headphones, touching neither.

"Please enjoy, sir. If you should need anything else, please do not hesitate to ask," she announced, bowing to him.

Silence. Not a word. Nor had she expected one. She liked peace and quiet and routine. Apparently he did too. Turning on her heel, she walked away a few steps.

The paper shifted, crinkling as he folded it. Then he spoke.

"How long have I been coming here?" he inquired.

What an odd question.

His voice was not exceptionally deep but definitely masculine. It was smooth, precisely cadenced, almost lyrical. There was a slightly hoarse edge to it that she found incredibly pleasing. Inviting almost. But inviting her to do what?

"I'm not exactly sure, sir. Six months?" she answered vaguely. Honestly, she had lost count. Time no longer mattered to her. She lived life, day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute.

"Six months, two weeks, and as of today, one day. In that time, you have learned to take care of me better than some wives take care of their husbands," he said.

Miyu's stomach lurched and trembled at his choice of comparison. Hell, he could have even compared her to a stalker, but he had chosen a matrimonial bond. She rotated back on her heel to face him. Her belly fluttered uncertainly again as he gazed at her with his sharp black eyes, assessing her, sizing her up so to speak, as if attempting to figure out her worth as a person and figure out her deepest darkest intentions simultaneously.

Although she could feel the warmth blossoming across her cheeks under his scrutiny, she did her best to keep her eyes neutral. She folded her hands over her quivering belly under the brown apron bearing the name of her coffee shop, _Midnight Coffee._

Her shop opened at midnight and closed at 8AM. She served a special crowd. The insomniacs, the drunks, the late nighters, the early risers, and every one in between who might be out at such obscure hours. She offered a safe haven, a comforting cup of coffee, a listening ear, a few kind words, or complete silence - and always great coffee. Whatever they needed she attempted to give to them. At the moment, she had no idea what this man could possibly need - or want - from her.

"I am ashamed to say in all of this time I never asked for your name. What is it?" he asked, picking up the spoon. He stirred without bumping the sides of the cup.

"Miyu Nakashima," she replied, her eyes following his long tapered fingers as he set the spoon back on the edge of the dish. His hands were slender, elegant like the rest of his body.

"Would you like to know my name?" he questioned her, taking a sip of his coffee.

"If it pleases you, sir. I would like to have it," she stated, swallowing hard. Sometimes she hated this dutiful, submissive shit, but as a shop owner, as one who serves customers, her subservience was required.

Miyu knew his name. She also knew that he was a member of the surgically altered humans bearing ghoul weapons in their bodies. Members of the Qinx Squad, ghoul investigators, hated and rivaled by both humans and ghouls. She also knew him as a Dove. If he knew what she knew about him, he really would classify her as a stalker.

"Kuki Urie," he returned flatly, drinking his coffee. "Excellent as always, Miss Nakashima."

"Thank you, Mr. Urie," she said, bowing again.

"I appreciate the newspaper as well," he added before she could walk away.

"It's what I do. Please enjoy."


	2. His Thoughts on the Coffee Maiden

Urie covertly studied the woman standing behind the counter as she set about cleaning the items used to make his delicious cup of coffee. For the last four months, she had successfully and consistently made an amazingly fresh, perfectly brewed cup tailored to specifically to his tastes. He could not remember the last time he had actually placed an order.

The daily deliver of morning paper over the last three months had become a nice touch, drawing his interest. However, on a certain level, he found her attention to detail, her ability to remember and catalogue such details for future use, frightening.

Miyu Nakashima. The woman was only about five three, not much shorter than him but both of them were a bit small in stature. Height wise at least. In contrast to his thin, wiry body frame, she possessed delicate curves; a cinched in waist made evident by her tightly tied apron which also highlighted the gradual swell of her full hips. She always wore long sleeved shirts pushed up to her elbows and loose jeans so her arms and legs were somewhat of a mystery.

Her eyes were striking. Olive green around the pupil that faded into a molten gold color and surrounded by a dark brown outer line. They were affectless, but he could see the stirrings of emotions being held deep under the surface. She did not seem cold or calculating, but definitely always thinking, carefully weighing her responses and cautiously choosing her words. He found her lack of emotions, or willingness to express them, fascinating, almost a relief.

Her hair was not so unique. Lightened to a shade of milk chocolate, most likely by chemical means. Judging by her creamy white skin, she barely saw the light of day so her hair had not been bleached by the sun. A little wavy, almost curly. Long but he could not be sure how long because she always pulled it up in a simple ponytail or wrapped it around in a bun of varying messy degrees.

Sometimes he could not help but notice her because most often they were the only two people in the place, and he liked to survey his surroundings just in case anything might be off. Barring only small changes in hairstyles and shirt choices, she was always the same. Quiet and dutiful, she worked steadily, never bothering him with unnecessary conversation or noise. She seemed to be able to sense he preferred to be left alone to read his newspaper. That was why he came here and would keep coming here.

Urie's eyes narrowed as he watched her. There was something about her that both drew him and repelled him. He had no idea what caused him to take pause about her. She had a remarkable scent about her. The enticing meaty aroma of succulent flesh and the metallic tang of iron rich blood wafted from her marking her as human.

But there was also a secondary, underlying scent, muted and covered by the smell of the coffee that permeated her clothes and hair and seemed to leak from her pores at times. The unmistakable stench of a ghoul. The specific odor of death and decay attached to ghouls who eat their own kind. The tinny stink of desperation born from the selfish to desire to feed, to sate the gnawing hunger, to keep themselves alive. However, that scent could be attributed to the ghouls who visited the place. She touched their used items, utensils and cups, wiped their tables, shared the same air where their scent particles floated and touched her skin and clothes.

Urie lifted his cup to his lips. No warm liquid flowed past his lips, spreading its glorious flavor and slight acidity across his tongue. He opened his mouth to request another cup.

Before he could utter a word, she was there. The fabulously insightful, eager to please, Miyu Nakashima. Giving him a friendly smile, she put the cup in front of him. Handle to the right.

"Miss Nakashima, do you have plans for the morning, when you close up shop?" he inquired before he could stop himself.

Urie was interested in this woman but only a professional curiosity. So why was he about to ask her out? Just a benign gesture. A way of thanking her for her thoughtfulness and kindness.

 _Then bring her a damn present if you must express your gratitude. Chocolate maybe. Chocolate is good with coffee. Surely she would appreciate that. You don't have time to entangle yourself with a woman. Don't complicate your life by getting into a relationship_ , his inner voice of pure logic reasoned.

 _It's only breakfast_ , his consciousness countered. _No big deal. A casual breakfast._

"Would you allow me to buy you breakfast? To thank you," he added quickly when her bright eyes widened and her lips pressed into a straight line.

Perhaps this idea was a terrible mistake. She did not look pleased. Why had he assumed she would be thrilled? She was definitely attractive and offered more than just a pretty face. Perhaps she had received numerous propositions, some less than savory to be sure.

"I can meet you at 8:15 at the cafe at the end of the block. Is that all right?" she ventured politely.

 _The Sunshine Cafe._ He actually liked that place. They served traditional Japanese breakfasts as well as a sampling of breakfasts from different countries around the world. Despite having numerous options, he always ordered the same thing like here at the _Midnight Coffee_. However, unlike this place, he always he had give his order with specific instructions each time. What they lacked in memory, the restaurant staff made up for in otherwise good service and great food.

"That will be fine."

"Great. I'll see you there."

"I can meet you here. Walk with you," he suggested.

 _What the hell am I doing?,_ he asked himself as she tilted her head with the official perplexed puppy look. He plunged forward anyway. Too late to stop now.

"According the weather report in the paper, it will be a clear, beautiful day. Not too hot. Great for a walk."

"Okay then," she agreed.

"Okay."

Kuki Urie could not help but wonder what the hell was happening to him. Curiosity. Plain, unadulterated curiosity. Ever since the raid at the Auction House over a month ago, he had been experiencing these mysterious things called feelings. He wanted to explore more, discover more, learn more about emotions.

 _What have you done?,_ the voice of logic demanded.

 _I'm not sure,_ he answered in his internal dialogue.

Urie drank his second cup of coffee. It was damn good.


	3. Good Morning, Sunshine

I divided this chapter into two separate parts to indicate a change in point of view. A switch in perspective is always so difficult to accomplish smoothly without creating confusion. Thank you for reading, and I appreciate the reviews. I hope you enjoy the new chapter.

* * *

Miyu sat the clean cup and saucer in the cabinet with the rest. The last customer of the night had been served and all of the dishes were clean. Time to lock up.

She took off her apron, folding it, and laying it on the shelf under the counter. Grabbing her purse, she fished around inside the brown leather bag to find her keys. Another 'day's' work done. She felt satisfied and happy as she stepped outside to greet the morning sun.

"Good morning," Kuki Urie greeted her in his typical monotone. He stood stiff and straight as the lamp post beside him like a soldier at attention.

 _Did this man ever just relax?,_ she wondered, inserting her key into the deadbolt lock to engage it.

"Morning," she replied, turning to face him.

"Shall we?" He flourished an arm toward the end of the block where the green and white awning of the restaurant flapped in the humid breeze.

Summer. Miyu did not like summer. She hated being able to feel the air around her. Sometimes it felt like the air dense with water vapor was covering her like a blanket and suffocating her.

Walking beside him, she felt like she was being escorted to a formal event - or under police protection from something. Rigid posture, his eyes focused ahead, and observing everything around him as if he expected an unknown evil to accost them at any second.

Well, he was a Dove so he was accustomed to dealing with the terrifying things that go bump in the night. He chased the things that most people only encountered in their worst nightmares. And sometimes those things chased him. Of course he could not shut that wary, protective instinct off at will.

"Welcome," the young woman with long brown hair in two pigtails greeted them.

"Good morning, Sayuri," Miyu greeted the employee by name making a smile as warm as the sunshine break out across the girl's face.

"Oh, good morning to you, Miss Miyu!" Sayuri returned happily, leading them to a table. "Do you want your usual?"

"Yes, please. And my - " She paused unsure how to refer to Urie. Friend? No, not really. Not yet. Customer? Hell, no. That made him, and her, sound like something different entirely.

"I'll have the traditional Japanese breakfast with salmon and a cup of coffee, please," he requested to end the uncomfortable silence for them all.

His facial features were tight making him appear strained in his attempt to hide his irritation. What could he be aggravated about?

To the untrained eye he appeared to be an conceited, elitist; a narcissist at best. Purposely detaching himself from others, he built an almost palpable wall keeping others at bay with his stern expression. Others probably found his quietude, his lack of vocality, disturbing and off-putting. However, she knew there was so much more to him. The secrets he must be hiding under that calm, unfeeling exterior aroused her boundless inquisitive nature.

Miyu noticed he was staring at her, observing her as openly and closely as she had been examining him. His gaze was analytical, questioning; the studious eye of an investigator searching for clues and attempting to draw a conclusion about the subject of his interest.

What kind of interest did he have in her? Her entire body heated at the thought. Her eyes moved away from him, darting around the restaurant but not really seeing anything.

She had been shocked when the reserved man had asked her to breakfast. Over the last several hours she had reminded herself this was not a date. He only wanted to express his gratitude for her thoughtfulness. He had made his intentions clear: one thank you breakfast, nothing more.

 _What man takes a lady he's interested in romantically to breakfast?,_ she asked herself to squash the silly romantic notions that tried to raise their heads.

For some, love is not meant to be by no fault of their own. Love does not allude them by virtue of who they are but what they are.

Goosebumps rose over the surface of her arms. A chill followed by a wave of warmth rolled over her back raising more goosebumps and the hairs on the back of her neck. The definitive sensation of being watched seized her. Her eyes were drawn back to his piercing black orbs that were still attached to her face.

* * *

Urie had not meant to stare so long. He had gone past the point of polite long ago venturing into downright creepy. However, he could not stop himself. There was something about her he found familiar but could not quite grasp what that elusive element could be. He also could not determine if this odd familiarity was positive or negative.

"What?" Miyu inquired self-consciously, lifting her water glass to her mouth to wet her dry lips.

"I've been coming here three times a week for two years yet they can't remember my order. How did you do that?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"I've learned if you take care of people, they will take care of you. If you remember them, they will remember you. Everyone wants to be acknowledged by someone," she stated, giving him a smile.

He knew the more he allowed someone to talk, the more they would inadvertently reveal about themselves and their true intentions. When he did not say anything, she continued speaking in her usual deliberate, measured way. Apparently, she also knew to be careful with what and how much she said.

"It's important to build relationships. There's all kinds of relationships and connections to make. Each one is unique and vital to not only our existence but the other person's life. I like getting to know people and everything about them," she explained, smiling at the server name Sayuri when she set the mimosa on the table. "Every time I come here, I try to get the same server. I like making these small but influential connections with people."

"I've never really cared much for people," Urie admitted in a low voice, sipping his coffee. He grimaced.

"Is it bad? I can ask for another one," she offered.

"It's not as good as yours, but it will do."

Miyu blushed lightly.

"So have you always made it a point to avoid making connections with people?" she questioned him, her eyes briefly contacting his before glancing away toward the window.

His eyes were cold but not empty. He appeared angry, possibly insulted by her assumption.

"I didn't mean - "

"You're right," he interrupted. "I've never liked getting involved with people on an emotional level."

"Do you avoid all physical contact as well? Forgoing simple interactions like conversation as much as possible?" she pressed, picking up the flute of orange juice and champagne by the stem.

Urie glared at her. "Are you a professional psychologist or just chronically nosy?"

"I apologize," she said, her blush deepening to a dark shade of red matching the ruffled red carnation in the tiny vase on the table. "Old habits. I _was_ a psychologist."

"Was?" he repeated due to her emphasis on the past tense.

Miyu sighed, an extreme sadness filling her eyes causing them to gloss over with a fine sheen of tears. For several seconds that felt like minutes, she simply twirled her champagne flute, swirling the bubbly orange liquid, almost but not spilling the contents. Slowly her eyes raised from staring at the fizzy beverage to meet his eyes. She looked so weary in addition to the evident sorrow lurking in her eyes. A haunted woman.

Urie was captivated, wanting to know more. However, unlike her he did not push with offensively prying questions. But it had been her job to ask those kind of questions. Force of habit. His tight shoulders loosened the slightest bit.

"I decided being a therapist was not the career for me. So I opened up the coffee shop where I believed I could still nurture the soul and mind," she explained.

Urie watched her in silence as she drained the glass of its alcoholic contents. He stayed quiet as she raised her the glass in a wordless request for another.

"So why didn't you choose to open a bar? Bartenders are known to offer a sort of therapy to their customers. A kind of armchair psychology so to speak, but you could have done so much more as a professional," he said, finishing off the mediocre swill in his cup.

"Because I didn't want to feed another bad habit. Alcoholism, you know. Coffee does have health benefits. And to some..." Her words trailed off.

She waited for the server to place her second drink and her plate of food in front of her. Offering the young woman a smile, she continued to wait for her to give Urie his food and to walk away before speaking again.

For a moment, Urie found himself unable to breathe when she gazed directly into his eyes. Her eyes seemed to be cutting straight through him, slicing through bone and sinew to reach his very soul.

"To some, it's food. A pale substitute for what they really need but a means to survive nonetheless," she said, her voice low as if sharing a deep, dark secret.

"Who are you?" Urie asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied her intently. She had fully captured his imagination, drawing him in, awakening his curiosity in a way that the desire to know more about her overtook him like it had when he asked her out. " _What_ are you?"

"Hmph," she scoffed lightly, her lips turning upward into a smile. The dark shadows in her eyes fled, giving way to the warmth and sunshine of her usual kindness. "I guess you'll just have to find out the hard way."

"Hard way? What do you mean?" Apprehension from her cryptic statement made a frigid shiver rush down his spine like an icy trickle of water.

"You'll have to get to know me. You'll have to make a connection, possibly an emotional connection. Are you willing to allow yourself to do that?" She held his eyes evenly, issuing a silent challenge.

"I-I don't kn-know," he stammered, becoming more unsure of what he might have gotten himself into.

"It's okay. You don't have to decide at this very second. Let's eat!" she suggested, stabbing the barely cooked piece of meat on her plate with her fork.

Blood formed a watery red pool under the steak as she cut into it with zest. Urie could not help but notice the almost predatory look in her eyes. Her eyes. For a second he believed he saw a strange glow, a golden yellow luminescence, emanating from her irises.

Urie shook his head, delving into his breakfast but not quite as heartily as her. He tried not to stare as she plowed through the super rare steak and four soft scrambled eggs with the vigorous appetite of a professional body builder.

 _What are you?_ , the question echoed inside his brain.

The new, emotional side of him, full of feelings alien to him, spoke up, _She's a woman who is pretty and nice. Someone you might like, possibly be able to get close to, maybe even love, if you allow yourself._

 _But why? Why would I want to do that?,_ he asked himself.

"Mr. Urie, are you okay?" Miyu asked, interrupting his argument with himself.

"I was just thinking I'm going to be late for work," he lied, washing down the lump in his throat with another mouthful of the disappointing coffee. She really had spoiled him with her personal touch.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said.

"Why are you apologizing? I asked you to come here," he reminded her.

"Well, I'm sure your boss won't be too angry. He's a really nice and understanding guy," she stated in a way that made him think she knew Haise Sasaki personally.

"And how would you know that?" Suspicion clouded his opinion of her all over again.

 _Tread lightly. Don't trust her. You can't trust anyone_ , warned his inner voice. He was more comfortable and accustomed with this leery, distrustful side of himself.

Miyu shrugged, shaking her head, and giving him an off handed smile.

"Just a guess. I didn't mean to assume too much. I have a tendency to always want to see the best in people, their good side," she rambled nervously. "I'd hate for you to be in trouble because of me."

"It will be fine. I'd never allow myself to get into trouble because of you," he remarked more harshly than he intended.

"Ooookay," she murmured, rising from the table with her purse in her hand. Her cheeks burned a bright red, the coloration spreading across her face. "I should be getting home to sleep. Thank you for breakfast."

Urie stood to his feet, bowing to her. Although part of his brain screamed at him to apologize, he refused. Arrogant pride and pigheaded obstinance still dominated his personality. He had not changed that much yet.

"Thank you, Miss Nakashima for allowing me the honor to treat you to a meal," he said using unnecessarily extreme formality.

"Good bye," she returned icily, bowing to him.

Urie watched her walk away. He could not help but admire her as she held her head high, striding at an unhurried pace instead of running away from him despite having been humiliated. Strong, confident; a woman who can be bent but not broken. Fascinating.

 _You're such an asshole_ , remarked the newer, emotionally sensitive part of him.

He could only agree with the blunt self-assessment.


	4. Blast from the Past

Kuki Urie walked into the meeting room reserved for the Quinx Squad. Immediately, all eyes were on him. Closing the door behind him, he ignored the glowers of disapproval especially the particularly scathing one coming from Haise Sasaki.

"So glad you could join us, Mr. Urie," Sasaki remarked to be summarily ignored as the latecomer casually took a seat beside fellow squad member Ginshi Shirazu. "You're late."

"I am," Urie readily agreed.

"Why are you late?" the irritated but long-suffering leader asked.

"I was with a woman," he answered with blunt honesty.

Shirazu laughed uproariously. "Holy shit, man! If you're going to lie, at least _try_ to make it believable."

"I was on a date," he added tonelessly.

"Seriously dude," the mouthy blonde muttered, rolling his eyes. He folded his hands behind his head, eyeing the ceiling above him. Apparently it was more interesting than the conversation at hand.

Mutsuki and Sasaki remained quiet, both blinking at him with vacant stares.

Urie was growing agitated no one believed him. Was it really so farfetched that he would be on a date? Had it been a date? He shook his head. What it was didn't matter. He found their blatant disbelief of his excuse insulting.

"A date? At eight in the morning?" Sasaki questioned him incredulously.

"She gets off from work at eight," he replied.

"Where does she work?" Mutsuki inquired.

" _Midnight Coffee_."

"Wait...what?" Shirazu muttered, his interest in the conversation returning. "She works where?"

"Did you say _Midnight Coffee_?" Mutsuki questioned him. There was a distinct wistfulness to his tone making it sound he wished he had heard wrong.

His fellow squad members gazed at him like shocked guppies, gape mouthed and wide eyed.

"Yes," Urie confirmed, wondering why Shirazu and Mutsuki appeared so disturbed.

"Did you _really_ go out with the owner? Miss Miyu?" Mutsuki further interrogated him.

"Miss Miyu? You're on a first name basis with her?" he muttered, aggravation seeping into his voice.

Questions, so many questions formed, running round and round in his head. _How long had those two been going there? How did they know her so well? Were they all friends? How the hell did this happen? Was he really that disinterested in others?_

"Not Miss Miyu!" Shirazu exclaimed, surprised and appalled. "She's too nice for you, Urie."

"Shut up, Shirazu!" he snapped in return.

"Who's Miss Miyu?" Sasaki asked sounding like a confused father while his children continued to argue as if he were not even in the room.

"She owns a coffee shop called _Midnight Coffee_. It's open from midnight to eight in the morning," Mutsuki helpfully explained.

"Am I the only one who doesn't know about this place?" Sasaki asked, glancing from the face of one subordinate to the other, each in turn.

"Yes," the three answered in unison.

"Where the hell is Yonebayashi? Why isn't she here? Why isn't she in trouble?" Urie demanded to take the attention off of himself. He referred to the member of their squad who was always conspicuously missing from their weekly meetings. "It's not fair the lazy ass shut in gets a pass for not showing up at all, and I get shit for being fifteen minutes late."

"What was that woman's name again?" Sasaki asked, dismissing the complaint of the disgruntled Kuki Urie.

"Miyu Nakashima," they replied in chorus.

"Miyu Nakashima," the befuddled squad leader repeated.

A switch had flipped in his brain, sending it spinning into motion while the other three continued to talk about the coffee shop and its owner, both a mystery to him.

Recognition skittered through his consciousness but no memory came with it. He could not form a face in his mind to pair with the name he identified on a subconscious level. A soft, fuzzy emotion flooded his chest with warmth.

His hand rubbed over his steadily thrumming heart. Hearing her name had not caused him any undue stress or anxiety. The sensate reaction to her name was warm, pleasant, and calming. At least this nebulous woman stirred positive emotions inside of him.

This influx of wholesome, tender emotions reminded him of the moment he saw the beautiful young woman in the coffee shop called :re. Seeing her lovely face, her gentle smile, triggered something inside of him setting off an emotional recollection rather than a visual, physical, memory.

Sitting in that coffee shop, tears had ran down his face without stopping while a feeling so visceral, so powerful filled him that he could only classify it as love. She was a total stranger to him. But maybe not to Kaneki. Perhaps, like that woman, Miyu Nakashima was a part of his past, a repressed memory buried so deep he could not dig it up. At least not on his own.

~\\..'../~

Kishou Arima was sitting at his desk going over reports submitted by Dr. Shiba containing the latest results of the Rc tests and an updated psychological evaluation of each member of the Quinx Squad when there was a knock on his door. Only one person would come to his office without previous notice.

"Yes?" he called, closing the folder.

Sasaki peeked his head around the door, his big silvery gray eyes pleading. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

"For you I can spare five," Arima replied with a smile. "What's on your mind today, Haise?"

"Who is Miyu Nakashima?" he inquired bluntly, blinking his big guileless eyes.

A lump instantly formed in Arima's throat threatening to choke the life out of him. He casually reached for his bottle of water to take a drink to wash away the obstruction formed by shock and composed of regret.

"Where did you hear that name?" he asked as placidly as possible.

"The squad was discussing her. She owns a coffee shop. Urie went out on a date with her," Haise rambled.

Arima coughed, choking on his water. He set the bottle of offending liquid down after taking another sip.

"You're not making any sense," he returned, genuinely bemused. "Urie did what with who?"

Haise recounted the entire discussion for him in hopes of clearing up his supposed confusion. The possibility of Kuki Urie going out on a date with anyone was a concept Arima's brain could not quite fathom.

Kishou Arima recognized the name Miyu Nakashima. She belonged to a part of his past. His and Haise's pasts. For several years, he believed the woman to be long gone, never to be heard from or seen again.

"Why does that name interest you?" he questioned Haise.

By the way Haise bowed his head, looking for the world like a guilty child who had been hiding a terrible secret from his father, Arima knew his worst fear was about to be confirmed. He swallowed a few times to rid himself of that damnable lump of emotion strangling him.

"I'm remembering," Haise confessed, avoiding eye contact with his superior, his friend, and father figure.

Apprehension made his gut tighten until he thought he might vomit. Arima knew something had been going on with Haise. He had feared for a while that memories of the past were slowly returning due to Haise's recent uncharacteristically withdrawn behavior peppered with unexpected bouts of aggression.

Why now? Why were so many memories of the past resurfacing now? Moreover, he worried Ken Kaneki was breaking through and wanted to come back, destroying Haise in the process.

"He's taken over at least twice now hasn't he? The last time being at the raid of the Auction House. Correct?"

"How did you - " Haise began, stunned by Arima's all too accurate guess. His words were swiftly cut off.

"When were you going to tell me?" Arima interrupted, standing to his feet behind his desk. "What else has happened? What other memories have come back?"

"I-I d-don't kn-know," he stuttered, unsure of how to explain his emotional recall. "A few weeks ago, I saw a woman in a coffee shop. I started crying and couldn't stop. I felt like I should know her. Somehow I knew she was important to me. I felt like..." He paused, searching for the correct words, but there were none so he just blurted out, "I felt like I loved her." He inhaled a shaky breath. "I know this Miyu Nakashima is important to me too, but I don't know how. You have to know who she is so tell me."

Arima sat back down in his chair. Placing his steepled fingers under his chin, he thought carefully about how to explain the enigma of Miyu Nakashima. He was still puzzled by the woman himself. A brief but basic explanation would be best. Details could come later. Or preferably not at all.

"Miyu Nakashima was a psychologist who played an instrumental role in your rehabilitation. Think of her as the key who locked away Ken Kaneki," he said, noting the sudden downturn of Haise's mouth into a deep frown.

"But he's knocking on the prison door," the young man said, his anxiety slowly churning into simmering anger. "And he's threatening to break it down. Whatever she did to me failed."

"Don't blame her, Haise," he said in defense of the woman who hated him with every fiber of her being as she had been sure to tell him before she left. "She warned all of us this could happen. It was a highly experimental procedure she did not want to do. But..." Arima sighed, tapping his peaked fingers to his chin. "I coerced her. I forced her hand and pushed her beyond her own ethics and morals to do what I wanted...what I thought was best for you. After her work with you was done, she quit. She disappeared. I thought she had left the country."

Arima laughed lightly. He knew it was insane to chuckle at this moment, but he could not help himself. His thin lips cocked upward on one side into a lopsided grin. He could not believe his luck. Miyu was still within his reach. She had been close by the entire time, and he never knew. Just as she had planned no doubt.

"What is it?" Sasake inquired apprehensively, wondering what the weird expression meant. "What are you thinking?"

"She's been right here. Hiding in plain sight. She did not even bother to change her name. She wasn't trying to hide. She knew I wouldn't come looking for her because I would assume she had left the country. She never even left the city. Clever," he murmured.

Arima reached for the phone. "Haise, will you give me a bit of privacy? I need to make a very important phone call."

~\\..'../~

"Hello?" The voice was breathy, hoarse. Sleepy.

Arima grinned. His fortune held. She had not changed her phone number either. If he had not known her so well, he would think the woman was stupid, crazy, or just plain lazy. She had done absolutely nothing to hide herself from him.

Actually, that fact pissed him off in a way. He could have found her a long time ago, brought her back to the CCG. Haise needed her. If she she had been here all along, perhaps he would not be well on his way to another psychotic break.

"Miyu?" he inquired tentatively.

"Arima?" Her voice was suddenly clear and strong, indicating she was wide awake.

"Don't be so formal, Miyu. Please call me Kishou like you used to," he implored her.

Silence. Too much silence. _Beep, beep, beep._ She had disconnected the call.

"Dammit," he grumbled irritably. She was still stubborn as ever.

Arima dialed her number again. It rang once then went to voicemail. He repeated the process three more times, the call being forwarded each time. On the fourth attempt, a recording came on.

"The person you are trying to reach..."

He hung up on the robotic voice. He surmised she had blocked his calls by this time. He would have to pay a visit to that coffee shop.


	5. A Second Date

Miyu resisted the rage induced urge to throw the phone across the room. Instead she dropped it on the bed beside her. Rolling over onto her belly, she screamed into her pillow to alleviate the rising tide of anger building inside of her.

Four years had passed since her involvement with Kishou Arima and the CCG. She thought that part of her life was behind her. Done and over. But the past had a cruel way of reasserting itself when one least expects it.

Well, sleep would not be happening today. Her insides felt like gelatin, wobbly and unstable, shaking like crazy as she pulled herself out of the bed. Resigning herself to being sleepless and irritable, Miyu pulled on a baby blue tank top and cut off denim shorts. She snatched a white button down shirt from its hanger to wear for propriety sake despite it being hot as Hell outside.

After putting on her sandals, Miyu was out the door. She lived in a one room apartment above the coffee shop which put her in the middle of the busy downtown flow. With no definitive destination in mind, she wandered aimlessly along the sidewalk. She greeted fellow shop owners, receiving gifts of smiles, friendly conversation, and food. All of the shop owners had formed their own little family, and she loved being a part of it.

What had begun as an unpleasant day soon appeared to be getting much better. Except for the heat. Oh, god the oppressive heat and humidity were simultaneously roasting and boiling her.

The library would be a good place to go to escape the heat. Not only would there be air conditioning but peace and quiet. Miyu could find a good book, sit in one of the big leather chairs, and read to heart's content.

~\\..'../~

Around six Miyu decided to leave her sanctuary of blessed cool and tranquility. Since she had only half way finished the romance novel she was reading, she checked it out to take with her. The ridiculously thick book was perfectly awful yet entertaining in spite, or perhaps because of, its highly cheesy quality.

Taking the route home through the park, she leisurely strolled along the winding brick path. Tired, yet content, she smiled as she passed a young couple still dressed in their school uniforms, holding hands. How cute and innocent. Romance must be nice. She wouldn't know.

A woman walked toward her holding the hand of her little boy of about four years old. The child licked a white ball of ice cream nested in a golden brown waffle cone almost too big for his little hands. Ice cream coated his lips and all around them, dripping from his chin. Before they passed, he smiled at her. She returned his sweet, sticky grin. Adorable.

The scent of delicious food from the nearby restaurants gearing up for dinner service met her nose as she emerged from the park onto her street. Her tummy growled reminding her it was dinner time for her too.

She would begin her work 'day' in a little more than five hours. She sighed. For the first time in a long time, she did not feel like opening tonight. But she would. Her customers needed her more than she needed sleep. Or maybe it was her who needed them so much.

As she approached her coffee shop and home, Miyu saw a man standing beside the lamp post. White jacket, black hair, ramrod straight back, a soldier. How can he bear to wear that jacket in this stifling summer heat?

"Mr. Urie?" she called when she came closer.

"Miss Nakashima," he greeted her as formal as ever.

"I'm not open yet but you can come in and I'll fix you a cup of coffee," she offered.

"No. I'm not here for that." He cleared his throat. "I'm actually here to ask if you would to have dinner with me?"

"Dinner?"

 _Like a date?,_ she wanted to ask to clarify things in her own mind.

Miyu glanced down at her super casual summer attire of shorts, tank top, white overshirt, and sandals. This would never do. Her short shorts alone would be incredibly inappropriate. She also held the silly romance novel in her hand. Quickly she placed her hands behind her back to hide the guilty pleasure.

"I should change into something else," she said, turning toward the alley.

"No, you're fine," he said, his cheeks turning pink. "I mean it's fine. What you're wearing is fine."

"But where are we going?"

So it couldn't be a date if her current outfit would be appropriate.

"There's a great noodle shop - "

"Oh, Mr. Oshiba's place!" she exclaimed excitedly. She loved his place. "The beef noodle bowls are the best in the city!"

Urie shoved his hands in his pockets as they started off toward the restaurant. As usual, he did not talk much. She already knew he was not a man given to frivolous and banal chatter so his reticence did not unnerve her. Most people talked too much, engaging in pointless, useless conversation more often than not to hear themselves talk.

Miyu found it surprising the fastidious man walking beside her would eat such simple, common food. She assumed he would prefer something more along the lines of the upper scale sushi place next door. By his appearance and demeanor, she figured he would be finicky, having decadent and refined tastes, a sensitive palate requiring the best of the best no matter the expense. She was wrong. And she was glad she was wrong in her assumption.

The place could barely be called a restaurant. The hole in the wall joint was crammed between a gift shop and a much bigger, much fancier restaurant. The tiny building must have been a storage place for one of the other business at one time.

Urie pulled aside the white Noren curtain emblazoned with the Kanji symbol for noodles for her to pass through. A U shaped counter offered seating for no more than eight people. A minuscule open kitchen offered customers an obstructed view of Mr. Oshiba as he prepared their food. The delicious bowls of noodles offered comfort to the belly and soul.

After Miyu chose one of the two seats on the right side of the small counter, he sat down on the other backless, round topped stool. She placed the book against the wall in hopes he would not notice. Surely he would not approve her taste in bad literature.

"Miyu, my dear!" Mr. Oshiba exclaimed upon seeing her.

"Hello, Mr. Oshiba. How have you been?" she inquired, standing up to greet the very tall, very broad shouldered man.

The man could be classified as her mentor. He had taken her under his wing, giving her advice and introducing her to all of the other shop owners after she moved in and opened up her coffee shop. Closing in on fifty, he still looked like the rugby player he had been in his university days. His big dark eyes fastened onto Urie. He examined Kuki Urie carefully like a father determining a man's intentions toward his daughter.

"Is this your boyfriend?" he asked, gazing suspiciously at the man sitting beside her.

"Well, I...uh..." she floundered for words. Yes? No? I hope so?

"Not yet, sir," Urie filled in the blank for her. "This is only our second date."

 _Second date? When had the first one occurred? Breakfast? So it had been a date! Two dates in one day?! Oh, my!_ Miyu's thoughts were moving so fast they made her brain ache. She pressed her fingers to her forehead, rubbing her temple with her thumb.

"Here," Mr. Oshiba said, sitting a glass in front of her and filling it with sake. "You look like you could use this."

"Thank you." She could definitely use a drink right about now.

"What about you boy? You want a drink?" he asked gruffly.

"Beer, please."

"Beef noodle bowl as usual, Missy?" Mr. Oshiba inquired, already beginning preparations.

"Of course!" she exclaimed, reaching for the sake bottle.

Before she could touch the bottle, Urie picked it up and refilled her glass. He paid close attention to social graces and proper etiquette.

"Beef bowl for you too? It's the best in this city."

"So I've heard. Yes, I'll have the same."

 _So polite and proper. Holy fuck. This guy is something close to perfect_ , she thought, swallowing the slightly heated liquid that spread a delightful warmth throughout her body.

Miyu watched him as he lifted the glass full of straw colored fluid capped with a foamy white head. Her eyes skirted over his chin, down his neck, following his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down with each swallow.

"So how was work today?" she asked.

"It was work," he muttered taking a pause between sips.

"Were you in trouble for being late?"

"Not really. What are you reading?" He nodded toward the book.

 _Dammit. How could he not notice? He was an investigator for god's sake. It was his job to notice things_ , she thought to herself.

"Here ya go! Eat up while its hot!" Mr. Oshiba encouraged them in his naturally loud, booming voice.

Thank goodness. The man saved her from having to tell Urie she was reading _Stolen Heart_ , the scintillating tale of a female police officer who falls in love with a handsome cat burglar she arrests. But she adored reading that almost comical romantic crap.

"How are things going down at the _Midnight_?" Mr. Oshiba inquired, pouring Urie another beer and himself one as well.

"Really good. I've developed a good customer base," she said, slurping up a particularly long noodle. "I've gotten to know some of my regulars really well."

"Is this how you met this guy?" He swung his glass toward Urie.

"Yes," she replied.

"Hmph," he snorted like a grumpy old man. His eyes once again surveyed the man carefully. "He looks okay. He's one of those Doves, isn't he?"

"I am," Urie piped up, answering for himself. "What of it?"

"Nothin' kid. Don't be so defensive. Not everybody in this world has something against you. But you got a grudge against this whole damn world, don't ya?" Mr. Okishabi pointed out.

Miyu stopped eating, carefully observing the two men and their interaction instead. The restaurant owner had struck a chord in Urie. It showed on his face by the way his eyes narrowed, and he glared with open hatred at the man.

She concluded he struggled with a severe inferiority complex which he covered up with a superiority complex. His overreaction led her to believe Urie harbored a deep hurt that he had nursed into an all consuming hatred of everyone. He blamed everyone equally for the pain he had endured. She had not been prepared to gain so much insight about him in a matter of less than thirty minutes. Once again, her initial assessment of him was wrong.

"Listen, boy. Take care of my Miyu here. She's like my daughter. If you hurt her, I'll hurt you," the man warned.

The heat of embarrassment flooded into Miyu's face. She would have words with this man later. Although she appreciated his sentiment, she did not like that he decided to take it upon himself to have a fatherly moment and threaten the man with whom she had no idea where she stood relationship wise because it was too soon to do so.

"Open your mouth," she commanded Urie. When he obediently responded, she shoved in the pickled daikon radish she held with her chopsticks. "It's good huh?"

"It's good," he agreed.

"Mr. Okishiba makes those himself."

"I see," Urie mumbled, shoveling noodles into his mouth.

Thankfully, the rest of the meal was eaten without another word passing between the men. After Urie paid and they left the restaurant, Miyu felt the need to apologize.

"I'm sorry about that. I had no idea he would say something like that," she murmured, looking straight ahead of her.

"You have a way of drawing people to you. It's as if you envelope them a magic spell of some sort," he remarked offhandedly.

"It's not so mysterious. I just genuinely care about people. That's all."

"How do you do that? How do you find it so easy to show concern, to have actual emotions for people who might not give a damn about you? Or what if they hurt you later?"

"Well, that's a risk you run in any relationship. No one is immune to getting hurt no matter what their relationship. Acquaintances. Friends. Boyfriends and girlfriends. A husband and wife. Siblings. Parents inadvertently hurt their children sometimes with things they do or say."

Miyu noted that he visibly flinched when she mentioned parents hurting their children. She had a clue that his greatest hurt involved one or both of his parents. He harbored a deep seated pain that he had nursed into a festering, gaping wound. Purposely shutting off his feelings enabled him to avoid emotional vulnerability. On a certain level, she could understand his decision to distance himself from people and his emotions to keep from getting hurt again.

"Hey, would you like to come up for coffee?"

"Come up? You live here?" he inquired, staring up at the second floor of the building.

"Well, it's not the Taj Mahal I'll admit. But it's home."

"Do you always get so close so fast?" he asked, his voice strained, betraying his indignation.

"It's just coffee." Miyu did not understand why he seemed offended all of a sudden.

"You don't find it the least bit inappropriate to invite me to your apartment?"

"If you don't want to come up, that's okay. God," she muttered, turning away from him to go through the narrow passage between the buildings.

"I never said I didn't want to come up," he argued, following her. "It's just...I've never done anything like this before."

"Oh, yeah?" She emerged from between the buildings in the back alley. Spinning around to face him, she snapped, "Well, neither have I. If you think I'm _that_ kind of woman, I'm not."

~..'..~

 _I don't know what kind of woman you are, but I'd like to find out,_ he thought but decided to keep the words to himself.

Why did interacting with people have to be so damn difficult? She made it look so easy yet he seemed to be saying all the wrong things, doing all the wrong things.

"Are you coming?" she asked, holding the door open behind her for him to come inside if he wished.

Urie nodded, afraid of saying anything else because it might be the wrong thing again. He trailed behind her up the stairs where she unlocked another door.

A large, open, one room apartment encompassed the entire second floor of the building. Only the bathroom had been enclosed behind walls. A small kitchen complete with a round table for two took up half of the space. A queen sized brass bed, a bedside table with a lamp, a dresser, and a rack of hanging clothes comprised the bedroom area. A massive leather chair big enough for two people to sit in, a four tiered bookshelf packed with books, and a floor lamp made up what could be called the living room.

"Have a seat," she said, indicating one of the straight backed wooden chairs positioned by the table in the kitchen nook.

Urie took off his jacket and his gloves, folding the gloves and placing them in the pocket before hanging the jacket on the back of the chair. He sat down, glancing around the small, tidy kitchen.

Everything was exceptionally clean and well ordered. Straight lines and exact rows. Labels covered the front of every canister or container on the shelves of door-less kitchen cabinets.

Urie could not take his eyes off her as she removed her white over-shirt, carelessly tossing it over the back of the other chair. The thin strapped tank top she wore revealed a lot of skin. How immodest! Positively scandalous. Her impropriety knew no bounds.

Yet he could not take his eyes off of her. Her skin, flawless and pristine white like porcelain, provided a feast for the eyes - if he were that kind of pervert.

However, he was a curious man. So he looked. He had never seen that much of her before. Usually drab monotone colored or hideous plaid patterned long sleeved shirts covered her arms, back, and chest, shielding them from view.

His eyes studied her toned, almost bulky, muscular upper arms. He watched the muscles across her back bunch and release with her every little movement as she prepared the coffee using the same method she did in the cafe.

His curiosity piqued, he wondered if her glorious lily white skin felt as soft as it looked. Urie stood up from his chair, coming to stand close to her. He extended his hand toward her. His fingers shook as he reached out.

When the pads of his fingertips contacted her bare shoulder, he felt her jump. Everything inside of him urged him to retract his hand and pretend it had never happened. However, he resisted the instinct to recoil because he wanted to touch her, to feel her skin.

His fingers bent and extended over her shoulder. His palm pressed to the roundness of the curve where her shoulder turned downward into her arm. His eyes followed the path of his hand as it drifted down her arm. Flawless, silky skin. So soft. Absolutely perfect.

Urie stepped closer, his chest lightly pressing along the straight line of her back. His fingers turned to glide across the back of her wrist, before laying over her hand. His hand fitted itself over hers while he soaked in her body heat, the nearness of her.

"Is this okay?" he whispered in her ear.

A shiver rushed through her body, causing her to vibrate against him. He bit his lower lip when her behind brushed across the front of his trousers which instantly became uncomfortably tight.

"Yes," she responded breathlessly, staying as still as possible. "Are you okay with this?"

"I like this...touching you," he murmured, his lips grazing the outer edge of her light pink ear which darkened to a shade of crimson.

His other hand rested on her hip briefly before sliding around to rest on her flat belly. His lips grazed her neck.

"Kuki," she gasped.

The intense throbbing under his belt took him by surprise. The way she said his name pleased him more than he imagined it would. He slowly turned the woman around so he could see her face.

Her eyes were half closed. Sexy and beautiful. Her hazel orbs mirrored the desire rising inside of him. His gaze was drawn downward to her lips. Her lips were parted, moist, glistening with saliva from where she had recently licked them. Taking her face in his hands, he pressed his palms to her wonderfully soft skin.

"Touch me," he requested, his lips hovering above hers.

Miyu cautiously reached up as if he were a timid animal she did not want to spook. Her hands cupped his angular jaw, holding his face in the same manner he held hers. Their eyes locked, their attention completely on one another.

"Are you okay?" she asked in a low, breathy voice.

Urie nodded in response. Although nervous, unsure of pushing of his limits, he wanted more.

Her fingers explored his face; tracing his brow line, his cheekbones, his jawline, before roaming down the sides of his neck. Her fingertips curled over the edge of the collar of his dark gray-green shirt button down dress shirt. She nervously chewed her lower lip as she unfastened the top button at his collar.

Knowing that she was as nervous as him eased his apprehension verging on fear. Her eyes met his again, holding them briefly before her eyelids lowered to shield her stunning irises. His eyes fluttered closed when her head dipped, her lips pressing the hollow of his throat.

Her fingers loosed another button, opening his collar further. She placed another gentle kiss just below the location of the first.

 _Oh,god._ Her touch was so tender, exuding kindness and love. He needed to feel more of her hands and fingers on his flesh, exciting his body and his mind, stimulating his emotions. But he had to be patient. The anticipation itself raised his arousal, his yearning for more of her delicate touch.

Another button on his shirt was freed. Her fingers played along the edges of the deep V created by his half open shirt. Pleasure derived from the feathery contact of her fingertips pulled a sigh from his lips. His fingers stole across her face to push into her hair. Everything about her was so soft, so gentle even the way her thick hair slid between his fingers.

"Is it too much, too soon?" she asked, tentatively freeing another button.

"No," he replied quickly.

Her boldness had offended him earlier. Now he was thankful for it.

His belly lurched, flopping like a fish out of water which is exactly what he had become. She was pushing him into intimate territory where he had never ventured. Yet he wasn't afraid. Not with her. She made him feel safe, protected. Her softness and sweetness comforted him. Her touch felt right and good. She felt right.

"Oh, my god," he gasped when her palm moved over his abdomen. Her touch was so light it actually tickled.

"Kuki," she called his name. "How far do you want to go?"

Her lips were so close to his he could feel an electrical energy like a tiny charge hopping from her mouth to his.

"Don't you think we're going too fast. Getting intimate way too soon?" he asked, his belly quivering. He wanted her, but he did know if he should take her like that yet.

"You're right. I do have a bad habit of getting way too close too fast. I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just...I don't know. There's something about you. I want to see what we can do together. Feel together. I shouldn't have..."

When he felt her pulling away, he encompassed her shoulders with his arms to keep her close to him.

"I've lost so much. I've lost those dear to me in the blink of an eye so I swore I'd never get close to anyone again. I put aside emotions and resigned myself to being alone. But you..." He squeezed her, pressing his cheek to hers. She was so warm and soothing in his arms. "Damn you. You came along. You've made me want to try. I want to care. I want to love. I want to be loved by you."

"Kuki," she murmured, leaning back from him. Turning her face up to his, she silently invited him to kiss her.

Then his phone rang.

"Fuck," he growled, letting her go to answer the phone.

Only one person would be calling his phone at a time like this. And it meant something bad, really bad, was going on.

 _Goddammit, Sasaki. Your timing is fucking terrible_.


	6. A Visit from the White Reaper

_I'm not that kind of woman._ Her own words replayed in her head, taunting her. She had made a liar out of herself. What must he think of her?

Miyu flopped onto her bed. Flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, she tried not to think about the negative opinion he might have formed due her lack of self-control.

But when he touched her...

A stab of pain like a knife entering her gut made her groan. Rolling onto her side, she hugged her aching belly.

Kuki Urie's touch did something unexpected to her. She had experienced a shock to her entire system, a literal jolt of electricity, sizzling across every nerve ending. Her body had flinched in response, but he did not. His inquisitiveness to know, his desire to feel, his fear of the closeness and the unknown had flooded into her when his skin contacted hers.

Every place his skin met hers had been like a fire igniting and dying in an instant, leaving behind a tingling sensation that lingered long after his fingers had moved on. Her blood boiled. Every muscle contracted. She had wanted to run but couldn't.

Then when he turned her around, to see him, to look into his eyes, she was hypnotized. Her hands seemed to move on their own. Her mouth wanted to taste him so it did. So greedy. So self-indulgent.

Longing. Need. The craving for more. A crushing loneliness had invaded her mind and body, weighing her down and making her sad. She wanted to take it away from him.

Was he the one she had been searching for? Her father had warned her when she found the man meant for her, there would be a knowing: an unmistakable, innate sense of recognition. There had been other emotions, physical sensations, she had not been prepared for. Miyu had always believed her father to be a romantic fool. Now she knew without a doubt he was a sentimental idiot.

Physical contact with Kuki Urie, particularly skin to skin contact, must be avoided. She did not want to act like an overstimulated dog in heat again. Hopefully there would be a next time.

The alarm clock on her cell phone sitting on her bedside table started going off. Ten o' clock. Time to get ready for work.

~\\..'../~

"Welcome to - oh, it's you," Miyu grumbled upon looking up to see Kishou Arima standing in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

"I came for a cup of coffee obviously," he stated jovially, sitting down in the bar-stool positioned across the counter in front of her.

"Yeah, right," she muttered skeptically. "I knew it wouldn't be long before you showed up, but it's no less upsetting."

"Is that any way to talk to an old friend?" he chided her mockingly. "May I have that cup of coffee? I've heard it's quite good."

Miyu spun on her heel, going to the coffee pot to pour him a cup of the plain brewed coffee. She saw no point in wasting her time and effort to make him a personally brewed cup.

"I like the new hair color. Milk chocolate. Gives you a warmth and sweetness you never had before. You were always so cold and dark," he said.

The few other customers in the shop stared warily at the infamous Dove, the white reaper. A couple seated close to the door abandoned their half full coffee cups and walked out.

 _Dammit. He's bad for business_ , Miyu thought to herself irritably. Her anger rose inside of her like a river downstream from a mountain after the winter thaw. Her hands started to tremble, sloshing the coffee out of the cup. _And for my nerves._

Setting the coffee cup in front of him, she did not care that the contents dribbled over the side a bit and created a small spill on her pristinely polished wooden bar.

"Drink this and get out," she ordered him brusquely.

"Your eyes," he murmured, holding her irate gaze stubbornly. "Contacts? Nice touch. I like the color. I do miss the - "

"Shut up," she snapped, rage seething inside of her. "Insulting me and encroaching on my place of business is no way to sway me to get what you want. I've changed Arima. I'm hoping to god you have too. Since you're here, I'm guessing that boy has become more than a pet project to you. More than a mere predecessor to be groomed into...into another you."

The words were bitter in her mouth. The man had handpicked Ken Kaneki with the deliberate intention of being a replacement for him when he was gone. But that meant breaking Kaneki, molding him, make him exactly who Arima wanted him to be. Regrettably, she had been the chief architect of the process that suppressed Kaneki.

In the beginning, Arima convinced her to assist him by stroking her overblown ego, appealing to her desire to glorify her own knowledge. Her self-seeking ambition worked against her. Fresh out of university with a new Master's degree in psychology, she wanted to begin work on an earth shattering thesis, breaking boundaries and making a discovery that would revolutionize psychology for the first time in many decades.

Arima came along with a challenge, an idea so unorthodox it crossed into being unethical: to purposely invoke the condition of Dissociative Identity Disorder to create a new personality for a person whose psyche was so horribly mangled and depraved there was no hope of change much less recovery. How many trips had Ken Kaneki already made through mental Hell only to be taken on a guided tour of insanity with her as the guide?

She would not allow it to happen again. Not to Kaneki or Haise or god forbid, any other personality he might have formed in the meantime as a way to protect his fragile, splintered psyche.

Miyu attempted to keep the sneer of disgust from her face but failed miserably. She could not believe the man's tenacity or his undaunted stupidity when he continued to shamelessly beseech her for her help.

"I need you. He needs you," he said, picking up a napkin from the coffee pot shaped holder in front of him.

"No. I won't hurt him anymore," she hissed at him, glaring at the man as he gingerly mopping up the spilled coffee.

"I'm asking you to heal him," he corrected her, irritation seeping into his usually tranquil monotone voice. "Will you at least discuss the matter with me before you refuse?"

"I would have thought blocking your calls would have been a hint that I had no desire to talk to you," she rejoined in a low menacing voice. "Besides, I can't heal him. Our great big ridiculous and dangerous experiment failed."

Arima did not seem to notice her threatening tone. He picked up the cup, raising it to his lips, but did not drink before setting it back down.

"Miyu, that's not what it was about. You know that. Kaneki was already severely damaged and broken, beyond help, due to the torture Jason put him through. "

"Yes, it was meant to protect that boy from himself. But to save him from madness, not drive him further into it, shattering his personality again. God almighty, Arima, what we did..." She paused, her words hanging heavily in the air. She corrected herself by saying, "What I did was so wrong."

"You did it by my request. To save him from himself before he self-destructed. I'm just as guilty as you."

She snorted derisively, her top lip peeling back from her teeth. She looked like an angry, snarling dog.

"I should have told you no then like I am now. No, Arima," she repeated flatly, attempting to leave no room for argument.

"Please help me," he begged, unfazed by her vicious expression and immediate rejection.

"No," she growled through her gritted teeth, straining to control herself. She leaned across the counter so only he could hear her when she whispered, "I gave you my help once. I've regretted it ever since. I gave up my career and my goal to be a doctor because I couldn't live with the guilt. Part of the Hippocratic Oath, a doctor's solemn promise, is not to cause intentional harm. How could I ever be a doctor after blatantly violating that principle?"

"I'm afraid he's headed for another psychotic break."

"I warned you. The method was experimental and most likely would not work much less be permanent. Did you really think another mental breakdown would never happen?"

"Kaneki is re-emerging."

"Ken is as terrified as Haise in this situation, maybe more so. He's the one who was imprisoned, meant to be forgotten. Dammit, Arima, we had no right," she growled through her clenched teeth when she really wanted to scream at him instead. "It was never up to us to decide who that boy should be. We committed a terrible sin against that child, and he should never ever forgive either one of us," she said, her voice breaking.

"Miyu, please," he begged, his eyes locking onto hers.

He took her by the arms but quickly released her when a flash of gold lit up her irises for a split second. He folded his hands together on the counter in front of him as if to keep himself from touching her again.

Miyu had never been attracted to the man. They might have been friends and coworkers once, but him touching her now only made her ten times more pissed off. Of all people to touch her, she definitely did not want one of them to be him. Her own anger had stonewalled her ability to feel what he was feeling. She really did not care what emotions he may be experiencing at this moment.

"I don't know what will happen to him this time. Maybe you could somehow find a way to meld his personalities. Neither one of them needs to go away. To cease to exist. I can't...I can't bear it. I don't want to lose Haise."

"Kishou," she murmured, narrowing her eyes into a stinging glare. "This is something you have never understood from the beginning. The mind cannot be reprogrammed like a computer. You can't pick and choose who _you_ want a person to be by adding or deleting mental files. The psyche, the soul, the very essence of who a person is, finds a way to decide for itself, choose it's own path. For Ken and Haise to become one entity, they have to find their own way. They will have to determine who takes control or who disappears or if they can form a single cohesive personality."

"But you can direct him. Lead him. Help him through the confusion and fear," he proceeded to plead with her. "There's others besides Haise I want you to attend to. The need a light, a beacon, a way to make peace with the two sides of themselves."

"I understand that," she sighed, immediately thinking of Kuki Urie and the other two Quinx Squad members who frequent the cafe.

Miyu had never seen the fifth member because according to her fellow team members she was a bit of a recluse. Did she suffer from Agoraphobia? Anti-social personality? Or simply crippling shyness? She would only know if she talked to the girl, but should she put any of them risk by attempting to be a therapist again?

"I just don't know if I can be...if I deserve to be that light for them."

"You, of all people, know how difficult it is to come to terms with two sides of yourself. But it can be done. That's why I picked you to begin with to help Kaneki."

"Arima - "

"I need you to come back. Help me protect these kids. My kids. Haise's kids," he added, his eyes meeting hers when he believed he had her full attention. "I can train their bodies, teach them to protect themselves physically. But they need you to learn to protect their hearts and minds."

Miyu sighed in exasperation. She knew he would say the right thing at some point to pull on her heartstrings and coerce her to agree. His kids. Haise's kids? Haise was still a lost little boy himself. _Damn you, Kishou Arima, you silver eyed, silver tongued devil._

"Bring me their files. I'm sure they have recently been tested for Rc levels and given at least a cursory psychological exam," she muttered, averting her eyes to avoid seeing the happiness of victory in his eyes. "Don't get too cocky. I haven't said yes." Her eyes moved back to his so he could see her resolve. "I will decide _if_ I will come back as a therapist _after_ I've looked over their files."

"Thank you."

The bell above the door jingled. Kuki Urie walked past them, casting an uninterested glimpse at them on his way to seat himself at his usual table.

"Get out," Miyu hissed at Arima.

"Answer these questions before I leave," he said, placing his hand over hers that lay on the counter.

"Is touching me wise?" she asked, gold streaks appearing in her irises.

"Oh, those aren't contacts. Very interesting," he murmured, examining her eyes closely despite her scathing glare.

"Let go of me," she insisted, trying to pull her hand away. His grip tightened to encompass her hand with crushing force. "I'm one of the few people on earth who can kill you. Or have you forgotten that?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time and a good fight." He had the overconfident audacity to smile at her. He seemed to be enjoying himself. He always had delighted in antagonizing her. "Why didn't you change your name? Why didn't you leave?"

"Miss?" Urie called.

Miyu glanced over at him, shaking her head. She did not want to him get involved, to risk insubordination, because she knew without question Arima outranked him.

"I'll be right with you, Mr. Urie."

She turned her attention to Arima who smiled at her in a deceptively benign manner while holding her captive with an iron-hard grasp on her hand. She could make him let go, but she refused to make a scene in her own shop. He knew she would not struggle with him here.

"I didn't change my name or leave just in case Kaneki remembered me. If he needed me, I wanted him to be able to find me."

"Ken Kaneki was always your favored child, wasn't he?"

"I have customers, Arima. Let me go," she insisted, risking a quick peek in Urie's direction.

He was still quietly observing, attempting to make sense of the obviously tense scene unfolding in front of him. Arima noticed Urie's watchfulness and released her hand.

"Will working with him present a conflict of interest for you?" Arima asked her in a conspiratorial whisper as he stood to leave.

"I don't see how that's any of your business." She could feel the hot blush spreading across her face and down her neck. She absentmindedly rubbed her sore fingers.

"Be careful with him. Don't hurt him," he warned her before dropping money on the counter despite not having drank a single drop of his coffee.

"Do you have any idea how ironic that threat is coming out of your mouth?"

"I'll bring you the files tomorrow."

"Get out," she ordered him, jerking her head toward the door.

Miyu's hands shook uncontrollably as she poured hot water into the cup to begin preparing her favorite customer's order. Rather than attempting to grind fresh beans, she reached for the can containing the ones she had ground only an hour earlier in preparation for Urie's arrival. Thank goodness she had not waited until later. He was early. It was only two.

She inhaled long, deep breaths as she poured the water from the cup into the sink. Her hands gradually steadied themselves as she continued the familiar and calming process of brewing his coffee. Her legs still felt a bit quavery as she approached his table.

"Are you all right?" Urie inquired as she set the steaming cup down in front of him.

"I'm fine. What are you doing here so early? I wasn't expecting you so soon," she gushed breathlessly.

"Are you disappointed to see me?" he asked, stirring his coffee, the spoon clanking as it hit the sides of the cup.

"No, of course not. Do you need anything else?"

"Would you be able to sit down with me? Just for a moment," he added when she backed away. His eyes narrowed into slits of suspicion as he studied her. "Why are you so nervous? Is it because of Arima?" he questioned her, tapping the spoon on cup noisily. "How do you know him?"

"I used to work with him."

"You worked for the CCG?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow as his wariness grew.

"It's a long story," she murmured, staring at the floor to avoid eye contact with him. "Look, if you never want to see me again, or come here for coffee, I'll under - "

"I'd like to hear your story some time," he interrupted her, sipping his coffee.

"Not tonight," she sighed heavily, feeling more exhausted than she already did.

Although she did not want to divulge the terrible truth about her involvement with Arima, Kuki Urie saying he wanted to talk about it meant all was not lost on the relationship front. Sliding into the booth seat across from him, she asked a personal question as tactfully as possible without appearing too nosy.

"So was there an emergency earlier when you had to leave? Is everyone okay?"

"Everyone is fine. There was no real emergency. Haise was acting like an overprotective father and wanted me to come home," he muttered, setting down his coffee cup. "About earlier..."

"Oh," she gasped, growing dizzy when her face heated up swiftly. She could not take much more humiliation. If things kept going like this, she feared she might be the first person in history to die of embarrassment. "I'm really sorry about that. About how I acted. I don't...I don't know what came over me."

Miyu was thankful he was gazing out of the window instead of at her.

"I think we should slow things down. Not let that happen again," he said, toying with the handle of his coffee cup. His head turned and his eyes met hers. "Not yet anyway."

 _Jesus, God in Heaven above, save me!,_ she wanted to cry out. Her insides felt like they were melting as his black eyes delved into hers, taking hold of her as if his hands were on her.

"I agree. We should take things slow. Great idea."

The bell above the door rang heralding the arrival of a new customer.

"I-I h-have to g-go," she stuttered, sliding out of the booth seat.

"I'll be here for a while. Don't forget, I still want to hear that story about your involvement with Arima."

 _I bet you do. I wish I knew how I'm going to explain it to you._


	7. No Rest for the Weary

Miyu woke up just after sunset, around seven thirty in the evening. The sky had not yet lost its reddish orange hue, but the sun had already disappeared. She stood at her window for several long minutes watching the color drain from the sky. When the sky turned black, the street lamps began coming to life one by one, painting yellow circles of light on the sidewalk.

Miyu moved away from the window drawing the shade behind her to keep out the prying eyes of the people on the sidewalk below. Opting for a cup of tea instead coffee, she turned on the electric kettle and chose her favorite rose tea blend.

A knock on the door of her private living quarters made her heart skip a beat. Then she remembered that Arima was going to bring the files by. She groaned. Her life had become predictable and boring. And she liked it that way. Now that he had found her, he was going to make life difficult, complicated for her.

He knocked again beating out a rhythm that echoed up the stairs to her apartment. He knew she was home and would not go away. Dammit. Pulling on a thin cotton robe to cover her form fitting pink t-shirt and grey pajama shorts, she slowly made her way down the steep stairs to the door.

She should have known he would not waste any time in his efforts to continue to reign her back in, drawing her to his side once again. Her heart sank with the revelation that her quiet, uncomplicated life was over. She already knew she would eventually return, but she would not make life easy for him either. Besides, there were many factors she needed to consider. Kuki Urie being one of them.

Miyu undid the locks, inhaling a deep, steadying breath before opening the door.

"You're looking lovely this evening," Arima greeted her, smiling so broadly he appeared to be struggling to hold back laughter.

Miyu had no doubt her appearance must be quite amusing. She had not bothered to brush her hair which surely was a disaster after her fitful, exhausted sleep. There were probably dark circles under her eyes as well. She didn't care how funny she looked to him. It was his fault she had not gotten any sleep the day before.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked when she stood directly in front of him, glaring in reticent anger.

"No," she returned flatly, not amused in the least by his unannounced visit. "I assume you brought the files?"

"I need to talk to you about Haise. Please, can I come up?' Somehow he managed to pull off the puppy dog eyes quite convincingly.

Just looking at him with that pleading, pitiful face stirred up her ire.

"There's nothing to talk about. All I need are the files."

"There's a lot. I can bring them upstairs for you."

He glanced down at the two full boxes he held in his hands, one stacked on top of the other. She had no doubt they were heavy, but she could handle them.

"Just for a minute," he pressed, shifting the boxes as if the burden was becoming too much. She doubted he was actually struggling with their weight. Despite being tall and thin, gangly like a scarecrow, he was incredibly strong.

"Damn," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Fine. Come on."

 _I'm such a sap_ , she thought. Miyu held the door for him to enter, plastering her back against the wood as if to sink into it in her efforts to make sure his body did not brush hers as he passed. Once he was clear, she closed and locked it then proceeded to stomp up the stairs behind him.

Arima entered the apartment because the door had been left open. Since she had allowed him inside the first door, his invitation into her living quarters was assumed.

Miyu folded her arms under her breasts, holding the robe tightly around her body. Although this man was no stranger to her, she felt apprehensive, bothered by his presence. She had not been this jumpy when alone with Kuki Urie who actually was a stranger to her on a personal level. Perhaps her nervousness was due to knowing Arima so well.

"Would you like an iced coffee?" She walked around him into the kitchen. He followed.

"No hot coffee?" Arima set the boxes down on the kitchen table.

"Would you like an iced coffee?" she repeated, reaching into the refrigerator for the cold brew she had started before going bed. She liked iced coffee in the summer, but she had an unusual desire for hot tea tonight. More than ever, she needed the comfort it brought to her.

"Yes, that's fine," he acquiesced, taking off his jacket and laying it over the back of a chair. He began pulling file folders out of the top box and stacking them on the table.

"Why are you so concerned about Haise?" she inquired, bringing their drinks to the table.

"I told you. Kaneki is trying to assert himself, to become the dominant personality. I don't want him to destroy Haise," he said, sitting down in the chair after she took a seat.

"There's more," Miyu insisted, inhaling the delicate, verdant rose aroma of the tea.

She gazed into his mercury colored eyes, seeing the worry, the fear. At least he was being sincere about his concerns. However, she sensed he wasn't telling her everything that gave him reason to be upset. As usual, there was an underlying factor motivated by pure selfishness. His hidden self-serving nature was one of the things she had always detested about him.

Suddenly a smiled lifted the corners of his mouth from his deep frown, confusing her. Why did he suddenly look so damned happy?

"I've missed seeing those beautiful eyes of yours. The color of yellow topaz. Pure pristine jewels," he murmured. "How did you learn to change the color of the them?"

"I would say it's equivalent to how your kakugan works," she explained, the green and brown seeping back into her irises.

"Have you experienced a..." He visibly struggled to find the words.

"Transformation?" she offered, tracing the tiny pink roses circling the rim of her cup. "No. Not since I left the CCG. I've been keeping it suppressed like my true eye color. It's funny how easy it is since I'm not chasing ghouls around the city. Or trying to avoid being killed by them. I like being like this. Being...me."

"But that's a part of you too. It's half of you. Like being a ghoul is half of me. I always thought you were beautiful, no matter how you looked, teeth to tail," he said, smiling broadly at her. He looked down, opening the file folder on top of the stack in front of him.

"That sounds exceedingly dirty, Mr. Arima. We were never like that," she snapped, draining the contents of her teacup. Standing up to refill her teacup, she steered the conversation back to its original course. "You said you wanted to talk about Haise. I'll tell you what I think. I believe what you're really afraid of is losing control of your chosen apprentice. If Kaneki becomes the dominant personality, you've lost your legacy, your chance at continuing what you've become. Plus, you'll likely gain an enemy. I doubt Kaneki will take it lightly that you attempted to erase his existence."

"Wow," he muttered, taking a long sip of his iced coffee. "Don't spare my feelings. Tell me how you really feel."

"When have you ever known me to sugar coat things for you, Kishou?" She sat back down at the table, taking the file out of his hand.

"Never," he replied, chuckling lightly. "It's one of the things I've always liked about you. I've missed working with you. I want to you to return to the CCG. More specifically, come back to me."

"What are you saying?" Her full attention was on him, her eyes locked with his.

"I want you to be a therapist for the members of the Quinx Squad. You know as well as I do the Rc levels not only affect their bodies but their minds. Plus what they see every day, what they they have to do. They are subjected to unbelievable levels of stress and constantly endure traumatic occurrences." He cleared his throat, his eyes drifting away from hers before slowly coming back to meet them. "I must confess I have ulterior motives above Haise and the others for coming to you."

 _Surprise, surprise,_ her inner voice grumbled wryly. _Of course you do._

"I want you to be my partner again. I _need_ you to be my partner again." He stressed the word need. He had been using the term often, almost loosely, somewhat degrading the meaning for her.

"You're awfully needy these days, Kishou." She sighed in exasperation. He was wearing on her last nerve. She could feel the last thread of her resolve to refuse him unraveling.

Although never romantically interested in him, she did bear a deep seated weakness for him. Once when experimenting with aiding him through a violent psychotic episode, she had felt his pain, absorbed some of his memories along with his rampaging emotions. Reliving parts his past in her mind, experiencing his out of control emotions as if they were her own, had affected her in a way she did not expect.

The same thing had happened with Ken Kaneki. They had both become a part of her, and both men were an Achilles' heel for her. Would Kuki Urie become just another chink in her armor? Seemed so after her strong reaction to him.

"I don't know if I can do that," she murmured, staring at her tea cup as if it were the most interesting relic in the world. "I believe it would be in everyone's best interests if I stayed away."

"Are you sure? I believe you would be a great asset to the team. You have your own special skill set. You're not a ghoul but you are a powerful - "

"Arima, I can't!" she yelled, cutting him off.

There was a knock at the door that startled them causing both of them to jump.

"Expecting company?" Arima asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"No," she answered truthfully, her eyebrows drawing together in bewilderment.

 _Now what?,_ she wondered. This evening had already had enough unwanted surprises and stress. This is not how she wanted to spend her night off.

"I should be going anyway," Arima proclaimed when there was another rap on the door. Standing up, he pulled his coat back on.

There was yet another knock; louder, more insistent, demanding to be answered.

"I'm coming!" Miyu bellowed impatiently as she walked down the stairs with Arima close behind her.

"Think about it," Arima requested when she turned to him at the bottom of the stairs in front of the door.

"Even if I say no, you won't take that for an answer will you?" The question was purely rhetorical. It should have been spoken as a statement. She hugged her arms around her, shivering as if she were freezing.

"Take all the time you need to decide," he said, acting as if she had a choice. He opened the door to leave. "Oh, Urie."

 _Oh, shit,_ Miyu thought without speaking the words. _This is absolutely fabulous. Just when I thought my evening could not get any worse._

"Arima, what are you doing here?" Urie boldly asked, his voice perfectly measured and tightly controlled as if the man's unexpected presence did not bother him one bit.

"I was just leaving," Arima assured him. He waited for the other man to step aside before walking out into the back alley. "Good night to the both of you."

"Mr. Urie, good evening," Miyu greeted him once Arima disappeared from sight.

"Are you all right?" he questioned her, looking her over from head to toe as if searching for evidence of an assault - or other foul deed. "Did you look like that before or after he got here?"

"I don't think you're in a position to be asking that kind of question," she snapped in return.

"I want to be. At least I thought I wanted to be," he muttered.

"We were discussing work actually. As in me coming back to the CCG," she added when he appeared dubious with one black eyebrow shooting up toward his hairline. "You're etremely judgmental. Is that a habit of yours? Or do you expect everyone to be as perfect as you?"

"You're not quite as nice away from work are you?"

"You're not a customer at the moment. You're a man I barely know. A man I thought I would like to know better. But now I'm not sure either. How dare you think you're the only who has a right to choose whether they want to pursue this relationship or not?"

"Hmmm," he hummed, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. "I suppose that's fair."

"Nothing is fair in life or love," Miyu returned in a scathing tone.

"You're right about that," he agreed. He raised the bag in his hand. "I brought dinner. Beef noodle bowls from Oshiba's."

"Oh," she gasped, blushing hotly. She did adore the beef noodle bowls. Stepping to the side, she invited him in with a flourish of her hand like a game show hostess showing off a prize.

"Mr. Oshiba also gave me this," Urie said, holding out a book to her.

"What is - " She stopped when she saw the almost pornographic cover of the romance novel she had checked out from the library. "Oh, my god."

"You left it at the restaurant last night. He asked me to return it to you. Looks like a fascinating read," he murmured, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

If grins could be sarcastic, they would look like that. Miyu snatched the book out of his hand. Holding it to her chest to hide the cover, she ran up the stairs ahead of him. Although she felt like she would melt from the heat of the humiliation covering her from head to toe, she remembered something more important she needed to hide.

Grabbing the folders from the table, she crammed them back into the box. Easily lifting both boxes at once, she pushed them into the cabinet under the sink to get them out of sight. The last thing she wanted was for Kuki Urie to know she would be plundering through the psychological history of the Quinx Squad, including his.

"I guess I should have called. Tonight doesn't seem to be a good night for you," he said, standing in the middle of her apartment holding the bag of food.

 _How very observant_ , she thought to herself, leaving the caustic statement unspoken.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Mission accomplished," she muttered, setting the glassware from the table in the sink.

"I take it you don't like surprises." He put the bag in the middle of the table.

"Not so many at one time, no."

"If you want me to leave - "

"No!" she cried out, sounding a little more desperate than she had meant to. She cleared her throat as if to rid herself of the panic stricken tone. "No, I don't want you to leave."

"So we've established you worked at the CCG," he began, prompting her to speak.

"I was the department psychologist," she said, waiting for a reaction. When he had none, simply continued setting out the food containers and chopsticks, she spoke again. "I was Arima's partner."

This time he ceased moving, nearly dropping the small cup of pickled radishes he held in his hand. He carefully put it down on the table between the containers of beef and noodles.

"Are you a ghoul? A one eyed ghoul?" he asked, sitting down in the chair.

"Neither. I'm - "

"By partner," he interrupted her,"do you mean it was strictly a work partnership? Or something more?"

"Work only," she answered succinctly. "Listen, there's something you need to know about me."

"It can wait. Let's eat," he said, breaking apart his chopsticks. "Tell me about your relationship with Haise."

"I can't. That would be violating confidentiality." Miyu poured them both an iced coffee.

"I see. You were a therapist. Doctor/patient privilege."

"I'm not a doctor," she corrected him. "I stopped short of getting my doctorate."

"Are you planning on coming back to work for the CCG? You can answer that, can't you?" he inquired pointedly.

 _Who does this man think he is?,_ she asked herself, seriously beginning to rethink her interest in him. Then she remembered how he had made her feel, the intense yearning, the burning curiosity, the heated desire. Her belly tightened. She pulled the robe more tightly around her as if the eighth of an inch thickness of the material would protect her from her own feelings like a child believes a sheet wards off monsters.

"I've been made an offer. That's all I can say at this point."

"How will that affect us?"

"Us?" She cocked her head like a puzzled dog. "Is there an us?"

"I don't know," he responded coldly.

Miyu had lost her appetite. She was angry, confused, and tired. Looking down at her sleeping attire, she realized a change in clothing was required.

"I'm going to take a shower and change. If you're still here when I return, we can take a walk in the park if you'd like. Perhaps continue to try figure out whatever this is," she muttered, waving her hand around in the air to encompass everything that had transpired between them.

Her patience with him, and herself, all of the conflicting emotions, was growing thin. As much as she would like to spend time with him, these were not ideal circumstances for either of them.

Tonight was supposed to be her night off; her night to relax and regroup. There truly is no rest for the weary.


	8. A Walk to Remember

Urie violently stabbed at the piece of meat, skewering it on his chopstick. What the hell was Arima doing here? He still debated about her connection to the man. She said they were not lovers. He believed her when she said it. However, those two were bonded by together by a connection deeper and far more intimate than a mere physical act. Besides, emotional connectivity and sex were not mutually inclusive. There was something more between them she would not admit to, and that fact bothered him immensely. Did she have the same connection to Haise since he seemed to recognize her name?

Dammit. Damn Haise Sasaki. He was always standing in the way for one reason or another.

Suddenly the food he was chewing tasted revolting. Urie gagged, spitting the mouthful back into the container. As of late, food had lost its flavor more and more, sometimes tasting like absolute shit.

After dumping the half full container in the trash, he opened the cabinet to the right of sink where he had watched her retrieve a glass. Filling the glass from the faucet, he proceeded to rinse his mouth out several times to rid himself of the awful, nausea inducing aftertaste of the food.

"Are you all right?" Miyu inquired from disturbingly close behind him.

Urie recoiled from her, releasing the glass. She had snuck up on him. No one could get that close to him without being detected. He had not sensed her presence or even heard her footsteps. How could she be so quiet and stealthy?

"Shit," he grumbled, glancing down at the shards of glass on the floor.

"No, don't," she said when he bent down to pick them up with his gloved hands. "It will poke through the leather and cut you. I'll get a broom."

Urie watched her cross the kitchen to the corner where the broom and mop were propped against the wall. Her hair was wet and unfettered, hanging down her back to her waist. He had not expected it to be that long. Soaked with water, the color appeared to be black. Tonight she was wearing jeans and a jade green top with sleeves that reminded him of the wings of a butterfly. At least she was dressed appropriately, modestly.

He stayed still while she swept up the sharp fragments scattered on the floor all around him. Her scent wafted up to his sensitive nose. She smelled like fresh pears picked directly from the tree. His mouth watered. Would her flesh taste as sweet as she smelled? Would biting into her be like eating a dessert, her soft skin and taut muscles sweet and tempting, melting on his tongue?

"Oh, my god," he murmured, feeling lightheaded.

Urie sank back against the counter when his knees buckled. What was happening to him? Why the hell was he thinking about eating her?

"What's wrong? Did you get hurt?" she asked, worry making her voice raise. Her eyes surveyed his hands and feet for injuries, but she did not touch him.

He did not understand why she was acting so standoffish all of a sudden. Perhaps she had changed her mind about him after all but did not know how to ask him to leave.

"I-I'm f-fine," he stuttered, feeling annoyingly out of sorts.

"The cafe is closed tonight," she announced for no apparent reason, emptying the glass into the trash can. Her neutral expression collapsed into a grimace. "Are you sick?"

"No. Of course not. Why?"

"Well, your food is in the trash. It didn't taste good? I've never known of Mr. Oshiba to make a bad dish," she muttered, sounding irritated.

"I just kind of lost my appetite," he returned, shrugging off her apparent disbelief of his half-hearted, half truth answer.

"Yeah. I know the feeling," she muttered instead.

Urie knew she closed the cafe two nights of every week. That was the reason he had come here to tonight. Everyone needed a chance to rest and relax. However, she appeared to be neither rested nor relaxed at the moment. Her face was pale and drawn, a mask of worry and exhaustion. The purple bruise-like marks under her eyes from lack of sleep made her face appear even more white and almost sickly.

As anxious as he was to know her situation with Arima, he knew she was not telling him everything about herself in a more general sense. There was a secret she had wanted to share with him. She had tried to tell him, but he had cut her off. He was not sure he wanted to know the whole truth about her after all.

"Would you still like to go for a walk in the park?" she asked. "I think we could both use the fresh air."

"Yes. Let's go," he suggested.

Urie studied her as she slid her feet into a pair of plain thong sandals by the door. Always elegant and dainty, at the moment she looked fragile. Gazing at her tired, wan face, the desire to protect her, to keep her safe, swelled in his chest.

"You're not afraid of walking in the park at night?" he inquired as she locked the door behind them.

"No. Of course not. I go for walks through the park all the time. No matter what time it is."

Urie had thought to himself he could take care of her should any rogue ghouls decide to attack them in the darkness. He believed that she could protect herself quite easily without his assistance. He was beginning to think the both of them had made far too many false assumptions about each other. They both should have looked more carefully before they leapt.

"Mr. Urie, I want to finish what I was trying to tell you earlier," she said as they entered the deserted park.

Her speaking to him so formally made his heart sink. He sighed in exasperation, irritated that he cared how she spoke to him. Dealing with feelings was difficult and annoying. He hated it.

"I'm an empath. I can feel what other people are feeling."

"Well, isn't empathy an important trait in psychologists? You need to understand how your patients are feeling to help them right?" He found her confession to be shockingly mundane and uninteresting. "But there's more to it than that. Isn't there?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, if you will allow me," she rejoined. "I can draw feelings out of people, feeling exactly what they feel. Like an emotional vampire."

"Isn't that what empathy is? Taking the emotions of others upon yourself? I'm assuming that's why you became a psychologist."

"I became a psychologist to understand myself as much as I wanted to understand others. I needed a way to cope with my ability."

"I don't understand what you're trying to tell me."

"I know," she sighed breathily.

Urie could tell she was infuriated with herself for not being able to express her thoughts. He wanted to understand but did not know if he could. His gut tightened with anxiety.

"What can I say to make you understand? How do I explain?" she questioned herself, shoving her hands deep into her pockets.

Urie watched in silence as she raised her face to the full moon as if to pray for guidance. The silvery blue light lent a brilliance to her white face giving her an ethereal appearance, transforming her into a beautiful fairy queen or a goddess of mythological proportions.

"What are you?" he asked, momentarily startled he had spoken the words aloud instead of only thinking them.

"Hmph," she snorted, lowering her chin to her chest. "Now that's an odd question."

"Yes, it is. But obviously there's something about you I really need to know."

"You're a half ghoul and a member of the Quinx Squad so you are well acquainted with seeing things people believed only existed in fictional stories. Right?"

"Yes, but - " The ability to speak fled from him when she opened her eyes. They glowed yellow, like twin molten gold orbs shining through the darkness. He gulped audibly. "I can honestly say I've never seen anything like you before."

Urie had seen many pairs of red eyes gleaming in the night at him so this should not be as off putting as he found it to be. But this was Miyu. She was the woman who owned his favorite coffee shop. She served him politely and efficiently. The woman with kind hazel eyes and a gentle smile. She wasn't supposed to be some creature reserved for nightmares and horror stories.

"Have you ever heard of a succubus?" She took a step toward him.

Urie took a two steps back. He found her phosphorescent yellow eyes unsettling. He immediately took a fighting stance, knees bent and hands raised, fingers curled slightly into loose fists. His instincts kicked in because he felt threatened, both physically and emotionally.

"Hmmm," she hummed, making his ears ring from the sound vibrating through the thick air between them. "So that's how it is."

"Now I understand your reference to yourself as an emotional vampire," he said, his voice low. His body trembled in response from the surge of adrenaline he had received from engaging the fight or flight response. He would fight if he had to, kill her if it became necessary.

"There's no need to activate your kakugan. I mean you no harm," she told him sounding exactly like a movie villain who does in fact intend to inflict serious bodily damage. When he stayed in his current position ready to defend himself or attack her, she continued speaking. "Unlike folklore and movies, I don't kill men by having sex with them and draining them of their life force."

"I don't know. You have to admit it does explain my overzealous reaction to touching you," he said, lowering his hands when the jaundiced glow receded from her eyes. "Why are you telling me your deepest, darkest secret?"

"I'm confessing to you because I can tell you have a major issue with trusting people. You don't trust anyone. Not even yourself to be bluntly honest," she added, moving closer to him. "If I didn't tell you now, waiting until later, possibly showing you my secret by accident, you would see it as a betrayal of trust. Wouldn't you?"

"You're right," he admitted grudgingly. "Aren't you afraid of me rejecting you?"

"Yes," Miyu answered, standing tall and proud in front of him.

Urie looked into her hazel eyes that were shiny with tears in the brilliant moonlight.

"It was a chance I had to take so you would not turn away from me later, believing I had betrayed you. I thought you would be a little more understanding, sympathetic, being a hybrid yourself. You're rejected by humans and ghouls alike, being both and neither at the same time. You don't belong to either due to being two halves that make a whole monster. There's only one thing that separates us in what we are. You chose to be a monster, but I was born one," she stated with painful accuracy. Her words stabbed him like a knife, slicing cleanly into his heart to allow all sorts of negative feelings to come flooding out.

Although he acted frigid and emotionless, Urie felt a lot. Too much actually. The difference between him and other people was that he suppressed his feelings under layers of indifference and hatred, hiding his genuine emotions so far down even he had trouble reaching them. But this woman, damn her, brought all of those feelings bubbling to the surface making him feel everything. She cut open the multiple layers of scar tissue he had spent years creating to cover up his emotional wounds. Unleashing the sadness of his loneliness, the rage of his abandonment, and the shame of his mediocrity in a soul crushing flood, he feared he might drown.

"Don't lie to yourself," he growled through his gritted teeth, coming almost nose to nose with her. "You are a soul sucking man killer."

"Since we're being so horribly truthful, you're nothing more than an intelligent weaponized zombie," she snarled back, her top lip sliding back to reveal her teeth.

Urie actually felt a bit disappointed to see her incisors had not lengthened, growing into canine like fangs. Succubi of myth were the female counterpart to Incubi, the equivalent of a vampire. According to her, she was nothing like the fabled creature featured in books and movies for centuries. He was not convinced.

"If you never want to see me again in a personal, romantic capacity, this is the time to say so," she said, taking a step back from him. Her eyes remained on his, holding his gaze with the unwavering, relentless determination he admired and abhorred simultaneously. She had given him this ultimatum before. He had refused then, and he would refuse now.

Miyu had been completely truthful with him. Urie would return the favor. After their stinging assessments of each other, his repugnance melted away into a fascination reminiscent of the interest she had first stirred inside of him but stronger. He should have known there was more to her than the facade of a meek, servile coffee shop owner. Knowing she had another side, a darker nature akin to his, intrigued him.

"No. I don't want to walk away," he said, placing his hand on her upper arm. She tried to wrench free of him, but he his fingers curled into her arm. The heat of her skin sank through the supple leather of his glove warming his palm. "I want to know more."

"You really shouldn't touch me," she warned him, streaks of yellow bleeding into her eyes.

"I'll take my chances," he said, faltering slightly when a wave of dizziness washed over him.

When her hands grasped his arms to steady him, his knees dissolved into jelly reducing him to limp doll in her arms. Instantly tired and drowsy, he helplessly leaned against her.

"What are you doing? Stop it," he panted. Attempting to pull air into his lungs was like trying to breathe under water.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she whispered, stroking his head as if he were a child. "I just want to make you forget. You're going to go to sleep. When you wake up in the morning, you won't remember this night or my secret. I will erase my memory entirely from your head."

"Don't do this. Don't make me forget," he begged, weakly clutching at her shoulders. He felt something warm and wet fall onto his cheek. Rain? No. The night was clear. She was crying. "I don't want to forget you."

"Are you sure?" she sniffled, embracing him.

"Yes. I'm sure," he replied with certainty.

Just as quickly as the weakness had inundated him, his strength came rushing back. He inhaled sharply like a dying man rising above the water about to drown him. His arms encircled her body, holding her close to him when he felt her pulling away.

"Promise me one thing," he whispered into her ear, pressing his cheek to hers. He adored her skin that shared the velvety texture of a rose petal.

"What?"

Urie held her, staying silent until her stiff body relaxed in his arms.

"Don't ever do that to me again. Don't drain my energy, and whatever you do, above all else, do not try to make me forget," he said, a menacing tone to his voice.

"I won't. I swear," she promised. Her body shook from the sob she held at bay. "You're not the only one terrified of allowing someone to get close, to know the real you, to love and to be loved."

"I know." He had the distinct impression he should apologize.

However, he had no idea what he should be apologizing for. He did not know if he could humble himself to say the two small words. Expressing regret for a wrongdoing whether intentional or accidental brought with it a certain degree of shame and humiliation. Asking forgiveness for doing absolutely nothing wrong was preposterous. Yet he had the overwhelming feeling he should do just that.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

Urie hugged her, allowing himself to experience the fullness of the warm, tranquil sensation settling over him like a soothing blanket. Then a question occurred to him.

"Can you make people feel emotions?"

"I can't alter or fabricate people's emotions. I can take what someone is feeling, amplify it, and push it back into them. You're only feeling what you already feel," she explained. "Without me, you would have kept it buried, choosing not to feel it at all."

"You scare me," he confessed, releasing her.

"That's okay," she giggled, giving him a bashful grin. Her cheeks were rosy with a blush under the light of the moon. He had never seen her look prettier. "You scare me too."


	9. The Breakdown

Haise stood in front of the gate to Arima's house staring at the white call button below the speaker. Inside she waited for him: the woman he knew but could not remember.

What would seeing her face do to him? Would it jump-start his memory, unleashing a torrent of memories, flooding his brain with the past? Or would it be like seeing the woman from the coffee shop :re, breaking through an emotional wall? What would he feel? Happiness, sadness, fear, hatred, anger, or all of the above? Or nothing at all?

Haise took a deep breath to gather his courage. Despite the nausea inundating him due to his frazzled nerves, he pressed the button.

Arima's reason for inviting him to his house made sense. He believed the best course of action would be to conduct this meeting in private rather than risking a public break down at headquarters for everyone to witness, especially the members of Sasaki's team.

"Haise?" Arima called through the speaker.

His belly lurched uncertainly, his throat constricting.

"It's me," Haise answered, his voice breaking from his taut nerves.

"Come in."

The electronic lock on the gate buzzed as it released so he pushed open the small door to go inside. He walked across the gravel driveway to modest box like house that looked like a gray rectangle. Plain, understated, and deceptively boring - just like the man who owned it.

Apprehensive, verging on terrified, Haise self-consciously straightened his jacket then his tie. He ran his fingers through his fluffy, two toned hair. Before he could knock, the door opened.

"She's waiting for you in the study," Arima announced, nodding toward the floating staircase attached to the wall and ascending with each step.

Haise swallowed hard. She's up there. He wanted to run away. Instead, he took a step forward. Listing a little to the side, his hand pressed against the dark wood paneled wall to regain his balance. A strong hand squeezed his shoulder to offer silent reassurance.

"If it makes you feel any better, she's as nervous as you are. Maybe more so," Arima added, giving his overwhelmed pupil a small, tight smile.

Arima seemed nervous too which increased Haise's anxiety. If he did not know better, he would think the man, his fearless mentor known as the White Reaper, was afraid of her - just a little.

"I'm going to get drinks for us. I'm sure we're going to need them," Arima muttered before walking down the short hall toward the kitchen.

Already knowing the location of Arima's study from visiting the house before, Haise climbed the stairs, deliberately placing his foot firmly on each step before rising to the next. He turned the corner to the left at the end of the short hallway. He paused at the dark wooden door, staring at it momentarily before grasping the silver handle and pushing downward.

The door swung open revealing the a small woman standing in front of the wall lined with floor to ceiling bookcases. Her black hair flowed down her back almost to her waist in soft, glossy black waves. She wore a boxy black dress that hinted at her curvy figure but did not quite reveal it. Her flat soled black shoes were like ballet slippers complete with silky black ribbons that twisted around her legs up to her knees.

As he took in her appearance, she continued to peruse the spines of the books on the shelf in front of her, sliding her forefinger down each one. When she did not turn to greet him, he cleared his throat to alert her to his presence.

His entire body vibrated with energy as if an outside source were acting on him, scanning him. He knew then she was already aware of him.

"Miyu Nakashima, I presume," he spoke confidently, his voice strong. He was thankful his voice did not waver, quaking like his insides, betraying his apprehension.

Haise held his breath as she turned to face him. Across the room, her eyes connected with his. He could see the starburst of color, green fading into gold, the gold darkening into brown. Her eyes were captivating in their coloration and set in a pale, cherubic round face. She looked like a child despite being a grown woman.

A sense of comfort and peace spread over him like a warm blanket. He felt safe and protected in her presence. Suddenly he wondered what he had feared from this woman. Apparently, the unknown had struck fear into his heart. Finally seeing her dispelled that fear, making him feel like a silly, ridiculous child.

"Haise," she said, her voice quiet and gentle. "It's so good to meet you."

Glancing down, a swoop of her black hair shiny as a raven's wing, fell across the right side of her face. She blinked fast a few times, a sheepish grin stretching her lips. A slight indentation, a dimple, appeared on her left cheek. Her fingers shook as she reached up to push her hair behind her ear to move it away from her eye to meet his curious gaze.

"I mean," she corrected herself, "it's good to see you _again_."

"I don't remember you," he confessed, ashamed of that fact.

A ripple of ire ran through him. But not his own. Kaneki was reacting to her deep inside of him. Haise's hand absentmindedly massaged his chest as his heart beat faster, thumping violently against his ribcage as if to beat its way out.

 _No! Not now! Not now!,_ he begged. Numbness, dizziness, followed by the internal tremors like the shuttering of the earth before an earthquake. Haise had become familiar with these weird sensations and the sense of impending doom that came with them. Kaneki was waking from his dormancy.

Miyu Nakashima laughed nervously. Her eyes lowered from his again, dark pink coloring the apples of her cheeks. She smoothed her hair behind her ear once more with shaking fingers, proving that she was indeed more nervous than him.

"I'm not sure what to say," she admitted.

"Me either," he returned, smiling back at her.

 _That bitch!,_ Kaneki hissed inside his head. _This is her fault! She did this to us!_

Haise heard the words as clearly as if they had been whispered into his ear. His blood simmered with rage like bubbles lifting from the bottom of a pot ready to boil. He could not let this continue. He had to keep Kaneki under control. His fingers clenched, gathering a fistful of his jacket.

Her lower lip quivered. Tears made her eyes glisten in the faint light from the green glass shaded lamp on the desk.

Haise advanced toward her one unsure step at a time with his hand extended to greet her with a handshake.

 _Don't touch her,_ Kaneki warned

Haise's fingers touched her outstretched fingertips, sliding toward her palm to take her hand in his.

 _Dammit, Haise, listen to me! Don't touch her!_

Then it happened. A series of confusing images flipped through his mind like a fast moving slide show. A needled being jabbed into his neck. His body strapped to a metal table. Electrodes glued to his temples, his neck, his bare chest, and rib cage. His body lurching, convulsing on the table.

Lightning fast flashes of his and her faces in turn, exhibiting a range of emotions; laughing as if sharing a joke, crying in sorrow, yelling in anger, screwed up into grimaces of physical pain.

The recollections in pictures continued. A deep bite mark on his neck, blood streaming down to his shoulder. He stared at an open mouth, the incisors longer than normal like the fangs of a dog. All of the gleaming white teeth were covered in blood, his blood. Eyes, yellow, hypnotic, staring at him from behind strands of sweaty, midnight black hair.

Then the slide show ceased, giving way to a longer memory which played in his head like a movie. He could see her holding him, or rather Kaneki, like a mother holds a hurting child. They were sitting on the ground, her arms around his shoulders, his cheek pressed against her heart. Tears ran down his face and soaked into her frilly pink shirt. Her face was turned toward the sky, her tears sliding across her temples wetting her hair. He could see her face in his mind as clearly as he had seen it when she had turned to look at him earlier.

The scene shifted to a dark place. He could see her standing in front of him, her eyes glowing like hot glass from a kiln, yellow and bright. Blood streamed from her nose, over her lips, down her chin. She opened her mouth to speak sending a crimson tide gushing over her lower lip to coat her neck in viscous red fluid.

"Kaneki, I'm sorry," she gurgled, blinking slowly.

Haise's mental view expanded, allowing him to see the complete picture. Kaneki held her with his left arm around her waist. His face was twisted, distorted with rage. Two of his tentacle-like weapons had stabbed her through her ribcage, one on each side of her body. Then the hostile expression faded. Tears ran from his eyes creating watery pink rivulets down his cheeks as they mixed with her blood that had spattered his face.

Withdrawing his kagune that impaled her body, Kaneki embraced her tightly as he fell to his knees. His entire body shuddered while he screamed her name over and over while holding her lifeless body to his chest. The sound of Kaneki screaming her name echoed in Haise's head until his brain ached.

Haise cried like a baby in the middle of study overcome by the emotions whirling inside of him from the distressing memory and the deep seated sadness forced upon him by Kaneki. Overcome by the sorrowful haze, he reached out blindly for the woman he had seen Kaneki try to murder in a stark recollection of the past.

 _Kill her. Finish what I couldn't,_ Kaneki taunted him.

"No, no, no," Haise murmured, holding onto her as if his life counted on it. Maybe it did.

 _Haise! Fucking pussy! You're weak! She deserves to die for what she did to us!_

"Kaneki, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did to you," Miyu whispered in Haise's ear. "I'm sorry for what I did to you as well, Haise. Kill me if it will make you both feel better."

"What?" he gasped. "No! I can't! I won't!"

Haise shoved her away, opening his eyes to look at her.

"Let me help you." She was crying.

 _Goddammit, Haise!,_ Kaneki bellowed.

"I'm sorry, Ken. I'll come for you another time. But not tonight,"she murmured, tears dripping from her eyes.

Haise closed his eyes when she lunged at him. Taking his face between her hands, she pressed her forehead to his. Her skin felt cool and smooth against his. His strength, his very life, surged out of him, making him to fall limply into her arms. The discomforting tingle in his limbs along with the soul crushing sadness rushed up and out, flowing into her. His body and mind that had been drowning in heavy, negative emotions immediately felt lighter, a little numb, but free and almost happy. She was taking away his pain, but it was as if she were also sucking away his soul.

"What did you do to me?" Haise asked, opening his eyes.

His bleary eyes could not bring her face into focus. Devoid of strength, unable to stand on his own, she held him with an effortlessness he found disturbing.

"Are you two all right?" Arima asked, entering the room with a tray set with three cups of steaming black coffee.

"As good as can be expected...all things considered," Miyu answered.

"What happened?"

"Not now, Kishou. That is a discussion for later."

Haise could feel his body being lowered into one of the leather armchairs in the study. Weary, worn down from the brief but taxing ordeal, his head lolled to the side. The leather of the chair was cool to his heated face. It felt good. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply to bring air into his lungs. He did not realize he had been holding his breath. Maybe she had been stealing that too.

Perhaps the reason Kaneki had attempted to murder her was justified because she had tried to kill him first. That would explain the scathing hatred tainting his voice when he had warned Haise about her and commanded him to kill her. But this was his body dammit, and he did not know this woman. Haise Sasaki had no reason to kill her. Yet.

"How are you feeling?" she questioned Haise, spreading apart his eyelids to gaze at his pupil.

He flinched when she shined the bright white light from her cell phone directly into his eye. Tranquility spread throughout his body like warm water being poured over his head when she touched him, pressing her forefinger and middle to the artery in his neck. His eyes moved to her mouth, watching her lips as she silently counted each beat of his heart.

Her incisors were normal. No fangs. What the hell had he seen? Was that memory even real or a mix of fact and fiction? The recollection of a book Kaneki had read or a movie he had seen could have gotten combined with the memory of some terrible thing this woman had done to him to enable him to cope with her monstrous side.

"I feel tired. Weak. What did you do to me?"

"You'll be okay after getting some sleep," she mumbled, avoiding looking into his eyes.

"She has a gift," Arima interjected, pressing the coffee cup into Haise's palms.

"It's a curse," she growled, her voice deep and vicious.

Haise's eyes widened. He checked her teeth again since her lip had pulled back from them in a snarl. Still normal. Her eyes, however, had changed. The gold color spread through her irises erasing the green and brown.

"Oh, my god," he gasped. The yellow eyes from the visions that had danced through his head.

"What are you remembering? What have you seen?" she questioned him, her golden eyes holding his. "Do you remember me?"

 _Kaneki remembers you quite well,_ Haise thought to himself bitterly.

The gold in her eyes appeared to swirl and flow like liquid. Everything in the room and everything inside of him pulsated. He felt sick again. For a moment he could not say anything at all, only stare into her hypnotic eyes.

"Kaneki speaks to me. I've had conversations with him like I'm having with you now but inside my head. He's afraid. He doesn't want to disappear. He doesn't want to be forgotten," he said in a low monotone.

"Oh, trust me, he will never be forgotten," Miyu assured him, one corner of her mouth quirking upwards into a sardonic grin.

"I don't want to go away either," he mumbled in an affectless tone, his eyes unblinking like he was sleeping with them open. "He hates you. He wants you dead."

"Sasaki!" Arima exclaimed.

"I know he does. Actually, I don't blame him," she scoffed. "Sometimes I wish I was dead too."

Haise winced, blinking, acting as if he had been startled out of a dream.

"That was an awful thing to say," he commented, his voice normal.

"The truth usually is," Miyu said, managing a smile that relayed nothing but sadness and remorse.

"I think I should go," he announced.

"I'll call you a taxi," Arima offered, taking his cell phone out of his pocket while leaving the room.

Haise blinked rapidly avoiding eye contact with the woman sitting in the chair across from him. Bewildered and drowsy, his brain felt like it had been put in a blender.

"What did you remember?" she questioned him pointedly.

"Was Kaneki tortured?" he inquired boldly. "Did _you_ torture him?"

The woman released a long, sigh that sounded like her very last breath. "Yes. Electroshock therapy. Archaic, cruel. Behavioral therapy like a shock collar on a dog. I am truly sorry."

"Are you some kind of monster?" he demanded, startled by the abhorrence evident in his tone. The anger streamed through his body, unseen but definitely there like a river hidden underground.

"A different kind of monster from a ghoul but in the same sense that you are a monster, yes," she responded calmly.

His eyes followed her every movement as she stood up, walking to the small table in the corner where there was a silver tray laden with the accoutrements for a simple alcoholic drink. He observed her picking up a glass, foregoing the ice and soda water to fill it full of a brown liquid from one of the cut crystal decanters. Waiting for her to finish her drink, then asked her a question.

"Why did..." He was not sure if she should ask, but he wanted to know. He was a part of this. Whatever had happened, had happened to him as much as it had to Ken Kaneki. "Why did Kaneki try to kill you?"

"Because I was trying to imprison him inside his own mind so you could be the one to become the primary personality," she replied candidly as she had to all of his inquiries.

His eyes moved downward to see her massaging her right side half way down her rib cage; the exact spot where one of Kaneki's weapons had pierced her.

"I can't say I didn't deserve it either," Miyu muttered under her breath, her face twisting into a grimace. She poured herself another drink. "I'm so very sorry for what I did...to the both of you."

 _"She deserves to die for what she did to us!"_ Kaneki's words reverberated in his brain until Haise's body trembled. She actually agreed with Kaneki.

Haise was glad he was sitting down when the dizziness swamped him, heating his body and making his guts quiver. He groaned, closing his eyes to make the room stop spinning. This woman was so apologetic and acted as if she would have been relieved if Kaneki had succeeded in killing her.

"Your car will be here in fifteen minutes," Arima informed his charge when he returned.

"Thanks," Haise said, his eyes turning to Arima.

Her hand, cold and small, touched his, making him wrench away, but she held onto him. Frozen, unable to utter a word, he experienced that bizarre feeling again: the pulling sensation as if she were drawing the negative emotions out of him. As if receiving a shot of morphine, she also numbed his body and mind.

"This will help. I will never hurt you again. I swear," Miyu promised, tears making her eyes look like cat's eye marbles. They had returned to their graduated colors. She smiled at him, apologetic, still sad. "Don't worry. The weakness is only temporary. You will recover quickly with rest."

"What about you?" Arima asked her, glancing at her. He handed her a cup of coffee from the tray.

"I'll be fine," she said, waving away the cup of coffee he offered her. She went back to the table for more liquor instead.

"This is why I thought it best you two should meet away from CCG Headquarters," Arima said, taking a seat in the chair beside the one where Miyu had been sitting.

"What happens now?" Haise asked, his attention set on Arima.

"I don't know," she answered instead. "Do you still think my coming back to the CCG is a good idea, Arima?"

"I don't know," he replied truthfully to the both of them.

Haise noted the fierce glare she cast at Arima. His eyes carefully studied the two people over the rim of his cup as he drank the coffee. He could not quite figure out their relationship beyond their ties to each other in the past, both working together for the CCG.


	10. The Overnighter

Author's Note: The ~...~ symbol at the end notates a shift in point of view. I did not see the point of separating the short excerpt into a whole new chapter. I do hope you enjoy reading this chapter. Thank you for reading! I appreciate the reviews and follows!

* * *

The whiskey burned all the way down her throat, spreading like a fire through her chest. Miyu hated whiskey, however, the liquid fire was making her comfortably numb.

Coming here tonight to see Haise was the second worst mistake of her life. The first, hands down, had been her decision to play God, creating another person where one already existed.

Arima had overestimated the strength of Haise Sasaki. On the other hand, she had never underestimated Kaneki's will to survive. The boy had endured so much already there was no way he would fall prey to nothing more than a severe mind trip induced by drugs and more abuse. She contemplated the possibility of his succeeding in his desire for revenge, to kill her like she had attempted to kill him. One bad turn deserves another.

A high pitched ding shattered the uncomfortable, suffocating silence. Miyu started, dropping the heavy glass in her hand. Thankfully the short, chunky old fashioned glass hit the floor with a dull thud, splitting unevenly into three big pieces.

"Shit," she muttered.

"I'll take care of that," Arima said, moving toward her.

The ding sounded again from the call button at the gate being pushed. The driver was incredibly impatient.

"You see to Haise. Make sure he gets to the taxi safely. I'll clean this up," she said, dropping to a squatting position keeping her knees together to avoid being indecent.

Her fingers shook as she picked up the huge pieces of glass. Dumping them in the trash can beside the desk, she went to the bathroom to retrieve a towel. She had finished the liquor in the glass so only a few drops wet the lovely darkly stained wooden planks of the floor.

Arima rejoined her in the study moments later after seeing Haise off. He took the towel from her, carelessly tossing it onto the desk. That wasn't like him. He was always so particular, so compulsive about cleanliness.

"Are you really okay?" he asked, taking both of her hands into one of his.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she insisted, shying away from his fingers when he tried to push her hair behind her ear. She pulled her hands out of his large palm. "Don't. Don't do that."

"You should stay here tonight," he suggested, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You're upset. You've been drinking."

"You don't have to list the reasons. It's still not going to make me stay. Besides," she said, her mouth tilting into a mischievous grin. "You and I both know me staying here while emotionally vulnerable and physically compromised is a recipe for disaster. Well, for me at least. After all these years, you'd finally succeed in getting what you want."

"No, I wouldn't," he scoffed acidly. "I don't just want to have sex with you. I want you to love me."

"But you do you want to have sex with me," she accused playfully, her words hopelessly slurred.

"I hate you when you're drunk," he mumbled, taking a step back from her.

"Oh, Kishou," Miyu murmured, a pitying tone in her voice. "If only you could hate me all the time. We'd both be the better for it."

"I'll call you a taxi," he announced, stepping out of the room.

Miyu issued a noisy sigh of relief when he left. Sometimes she hated herself so much. Tonight she hated herself for a thousand reasons. At the moment, she despised the fact she could emotionally manipulate Kishou Arima so easily. Through the years of knowing him, without using her ability, she learned the right buttons to push to get whatever reaction she wanted from him. Although she should not feel too guilty because he also knew how steer her emotions in the direction he wanted them to go. That was how she had come to be here tonight after all.

"You're cab will be here soon. I'll walk you out," he proclaimed, offering his arm to her.

Miyu slid her arm through his without protesting. She was a little unsteady on her feet. A nasty spill down the stairs was not how she wanted to end this already terrible evening.

"I've got some thinking to do, Kishou," she said as he assisted her with traversing the stairs.

"Take your time. I believe I need to rethink my strategy as well. You warned me once when something was a horrible idea, and I pushed ahead anyway. We both see how awful that turned out," he admitted without actually saying he was wrong.

"Yeah," she agreed simply. She did not have the energy or presence of mind to argue.

"Do you really want to die?" he questioned her, opening the front door.

"Sometimes. But other times I'm glad to be alive." After they stepped over the threshold, she pulled her arm from his, turning to look up at him. "I'm not trying to be cruel by saying this, Kishou, but before you came back into my life, I was happy, content. I loved my life. I had finally found a way for me to live my life without hurting anyone. I had found a way to deal with my guilt, to get beyond it. But now..."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "You always told me I was a narcissist. Machiavellian. Self-centered, overly ambitious, devoid of empathy - "

"Stop!" she exclaimed loudly. She patted his chest over his heart, speaking more softly as she repeated, "Stop. Don't do that. Okay? I said all those things. And I meant them. You're trying to use them against me to exploit my emotions so don't."

"Mmmm," he hummed, staring up at the starry night sky. "You always were too smart for my own good. I could only push you so far before you would bring my bullshit to a screeching halt."

"I'm afraid I might have to do that again. But for the sake of those kids, especially Haise, I'll give your offer a little more consideration. However, my list of reasons to say no is getting longer," she warned him.

A car horn honked from the other side of the gate.

"Honest to god, Kishou, this taxi service has some of the rudest drivers," she muttered irritably.

"Your ride is here," he informed her unnecessarily. His face had hardened into a grim expression somewhere between anger and disappointment. "You should go."

Miyu nodded without saying another word. There was nothing left to say tonight.

* * *

~\\..'../~

Miyu took a hot shower after returning home as if to boil away the bad feelings, the trauma of the entire evening at Arima's. She knew exactly what Haise had remembered, therefore she had not pushed him to discuss specifics. She had seen everything as if looking through a foggy window, seeing a vision from afar. She had watched every awful recollection that had ran through his mind like a horror movie on a theater screen.

Although weary, her active, questioning mind would not allow her to sleep. Questions buzzed like mosquitoes around her brain; loud, insistent, not leaving her alone and poking at her, annoying her.

The alcohol had worn off, but instead of drinking more, she tried lavender and chamomile tea. When that did not work, she attempted reading. After rereading the same sentence for the third time and still not comprehending it, she gave up. Dressing in jeans and an oversized royal blue t-shirt, she walked to the park. Perhaps wearing herself physically would shut down her busy mind.

After speed walking the entirety of the park trail twice, Miyu sighed in exasperation, dropping down heavily onto a bench. Her leg muscles burned, and she needed another shower, but her mind still raced with the endurance of a long distance runner.

The interaction earlier that night proved to her she was pure poison to Haise's mind, hurting him more than helping him - not the desired result for a person in the profession of mental healing. Haise would be better off without her. He could a find a way, a better way, to help himself.

Reconciling with Kaneki and his past should be totally up to Haise without her interference. Besides, Kaneki's hate ran deep, and he wanted revenge. Being near Haise brought all of that to the surface, hindering him in ways that would only hurt him more.

Kishou Arima: another complication she did not need or want in her life. Although he said he wanted her to love him, it wasn't true. He only wanted what he could not have like a spoiled child told no when he asked for a particular toy. Suddenly owning that object became of great importance to him. She was nothing more than a prize to win, a possession to be owned. He would quickly lose interest after obtaining his selfish desire.

Kuki Urie, the man she wanted to get to know. She could not do that as his therapist. A direct conflict of interest, a violation of ethics, a relationship simply could not happen. There might not be anything there, no chance of a romance, a lasting relationship, maybe not even a a one night stand. She did not know if a future together existed for the two of them. But she wanted to find out.

Staring up into the night sky, her eyes scanned the innumerable twinkling white dots. Stars, romanticized by poets and writers for centuries were nothing more than fusion reactors in the sky, their light being the by product of chemical reactions.

The moon was already waning from its complete fullness. Little by little, the moon would gradually disappear. It was always there in its entirety, despite sometimes not being seen by the naked eye.

Would Haise disappear after being overtaken by the powerful personality of Ken Kaneki? Yes. Yes, he would. Kaneki had never gone away despite no longer being seen. Like the reappearance of the new moon, the dark side of the moon, there are some things in life that are just inevitable. With or without her help, Haise would be eaten alive, cannibalized by the more prevalent, the original, personality that is Ken Kaneki. He would be doing nothing more than reclaiming the body that already belonged to him.

"Miyu." The voice was familiar. One she would have wanted hear any other time but now.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes focusing on Kuki Urie standing in front of her.

"I was coming to see you," he answered quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was taking a walk," she replied curtly. "I needed a walk to relax."

"Of course," he murmured. "You did say you take walks all the time, day or night."

"Why were you coming to see me?"

"I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Why wouldn't I be?" she questioned him in a snippy tone.

"Look at your phone," he said.

"I don't see what - " She saw that she had dozens of missed calls and unanswered texts from him. "Oh."

"You told me you would be busy tonight. Oddly, Sasaki said he had a meeting tonight. I couldn't help but think that meeting would be with you. Was it?" he inquired.

"Jealous much? Why do you care?" she snapped, standing to her feet.

"What was your relationship with Sasaki?" He stood in front of her when she turned to leave.

"Not what you're thinking, I assure you," she snorted, agitated.

Miyu attempted to step around him, but he sidestepped to block her again.

"You know, you've already done this to me once with Arima. You seem to have taken a disturbing and unusual interest in my love life, past and present. Why?"

"Because I would like to know how the woman I'm interested in is connected to the men I work with so closely," he explained, staring down at her.

"Trying to determine if I'm worthy of you? Hmm? Is that it?" She glared at him, her annoyance boiling over into unbridled anger.

"I just wanted to know - "

Tears of frustration trickled down her cheeks. The tears flowed faster, stemming from her controlled rage that wanted to explode.

"You know what," she ground out through her teeth, poking him in the chest with her forefinger as she spoke each word. "Fuck you, Kuki Urie. I don't need you."

Miyu walked around him to go home. Her gait was brisk, breaking into a speed walk then a full run when she heard his footsteps behind her.

"I wanted to see you. I was worried about you," he said, catching up to her at her back door.

She whirled around to face him.

"Then why didn't you just say that?!" she yelled, resisting the urge to slap him. "God, why are you so emotionally constipated?"

Urie stood silent and unmoving as a stone wall, blinking at her as if he did not understand the words coming out of her mouth. His perplexed expression only served to incense her. He really had no idea how willful ignorance of emotional complexities infuriated her.

"What has happened to you that is so much worse than what has happened to anyone else?" she demanded in a shockingly unemotional voice. "Why do you reserve the right to be bitter, hateful, unreachable, looking down on the rest of us from your throne of selfish indifference?"

"Wow," he sighed, his eyes darting from side to side to avoid connecting with hers. "You really are cruel. You have a barbed tongue laced with pure venom."

"You're cruel too in way that you don't even understand. Acting so damn heartless. You hide your insecurities, your own fear of rejection, behind this facade of superiority. You're so afraid of feeling something, anything, that you shut people out and hate them before they even have a chance. You're harshly judgmental, downright mean, in your assessments of others. I can't..." Her voice broke as the tears turned from a trickle to a tidal wave, dripping from her chin. "I can't do this."

Miyu turned to unlock the door. She tried to slip in and slam it behind her before he could enter. Unable to get through the door completely, his body was wedged halfway through. She could chop him half if she wanted by using the door. However, she did not want to do such a horrid thing.

"Get out of the way!" she screamed, grasping the doorknob with both hands.

"No! Not until you tell me what's wrong!" he bellowed back, pulling on the door with all of his strength.

Due to her earlier ordeal, Miyu was weak. Her feet slid across the floor as he jerked the door open far enough to slide inside before she slammed it shut. She fell backwards, her behind smacking the bottom wooden step with painful force. A sharp jolt of pain raced up her back and outward across her hips.

"Ow!" she cried out. The physical pain seemed to shock her out of her emotional state of emergency. Her tears dried up instantly, and her rising anger dissipated like steam released from a pressure cooker.

"Here," he said, offering his hand to her. "Let me help you."

Miyu slapped it away.

"I don't need your damn help," she grumbled, successfully sounding like a pouting child.

Humiliation colored her face and amplified the pain in her ass - the literal one not the figurative one named Kuki Urie. She cringed as she rolled over onto her hands and knees before slowly rising to a standing position. Each step brought with it a surge of pain down her legs.

"Should I take you to the hospital?" he asked, putting his arm around her waist to help her up the stairs.

"No. It will work itself out. I just need a hot shower and some sleep. And for you to go away," she added acerbically.

"Well, getting two out of three isn't bad," he rejoined tonelessly, taking her keys from her hand to unlock the entrance door to her apartment.

"Dammit," she grumbled through gritted teeth as she hobbled to the bathroom with his assistance. She waited for him to close the door, but he did not move. "Are you going to undress me?"

"Do you want me to undress you?" he inquired, completely unfazed. He did not even raise an eyebrow at the suggestion.

"No. Get out," she commanded him.

"You're not a nice person, are you?" He closed the door after uttering his strictly rhetorical question.

"Takes one to know one!" she yelled at the white door.

"That's mature!" he retorted.

"So was that," she mumbled under her breath.

"I heard that!" he exclaimed.

He sounded far away, probably in the kitchen. Miyu heard the rattling of dishes, water running. Maybe he was making coffee.

"I prefer tea!" she hollered while disrobing.

She turned on the water before she could hear his response. Without waiting for the water to heat, she stepped under the frigid spray, gnashing her teeth together to keep from screaming. The stabs of pain that came with every little movement gradually lessened into tiny twinges of discomfort until they ceased completely.

Miyu scrubbed and lathered over and over as if to wash away the emotional crud along with the layers of salty sweat crusted to her skin. Once her skin was red like a boiled lobster, she stopped washing and stood under the shower head, allowing the water to beat against her skull and shoulders. The water cooled but she stayed. Only when the water started to sting her raw skin like tiny shards of ice hitting her did she turn it off. For several more long minutes, she stood in the tub, dripping and shivering.

Urie knocked on the door. She was too exhausted to jump in surprise. The sound did, however, prompt her to move. Wrapping her body in a large purple towel, she used a second white towel to dab at her drenched hair.

"Are you all right in there?" he inquired, knocking again.

"I'm okay. I'm going to have to come out in a towel," she warned him. "I forgot to get clothes."

"Okay. Come on out," he said.

Miyu opened the door. She poked her head out to see him standing in the living area, his back turned to the bathroom. Scuttling around the corner, she opened a drawer to snatch out a pair of panties which she hurriedly slipped on under the towel.

"Are you dressed?" he asked.

"Almost," she replied in a rush.

She opened another drawer to retrieve a nightgown that looked like a long t-shirt in a baby blue color. Allowing the towel to drop, she pulled the gown over her head. Then she put on her robe, tying it securely around her waist.

"Okay. You can turn around," she said, scampering back to the bathroom with the towel.

Gathering the clothes from the floor, she threw them and the used towels in the clothes hamper as not to offend his delicate sensibilities should have to use the restroom. But then again, she doubted he would be here that long.

"There's a cup of tea for you in the kitchen," he told her when she emerged again.

"Th-thanks," she stammered, caught off guard.

Not only had he heard her request, he granted it. She had not expected such kindness from him.

"What happened?" he asked as she walked into the kitchen.

"I can't talk about it," she said, keeping her back to him.

Miyu lifted the cup to take a sip. Suddenly she sensed him behind her. He was close; so close she could feel his body heat warming her back but not close enough to be contacting her.

"Can you tell me anything about what occurred?"

Goosebumps rose across the back of her neck where his breath had warmed her skin. A shudder ran through her body. She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to recount the events from the entire evening from her first thought upon seeing Haise again to her anger at Arima when she left. She wanted to unload the regret and the sorrow of reliving the past where it still simmered on a sub conscious back burner like it had for years.

"All I can tell you is it hurts. I've made some serious errors in judgment," she said, drinking some of her luekwarm tea. She inhaled the scent of lavender hoping it would steady her jangled nerves.

"We've all made mistakes," he returned making it sound like a tired old adage in his emotionless tone.

Miyu held her breath as his hand hovered above her shoulder. Apparently he reconsidered the idea of touching her. When he backed away, she rotated around, leaning against the counter behind her. Although the cup was almost empty, she dunked the spent tea bag up and down.

"My mistakes have destroyed lives. Including my own," she added, gazing into her cup to avoid making eye contact with Urie. "I can't afford to make any more mistakes. I don't need anymore ghosts of my past to come back to haunt me."

"Do you think that's what I'll be?" He stepped closer to her, taking the cup from her hands.

Miyu kept her eyes lowered, staring at the tips of shiny black shoes.

"Will I be just another mistake?" He paused, waiting for her to react. "Look at me."

She reluctantly raised her eyes to look into his stormy gray irises. Her entire body vibrated with energy from his closeness. A stinging electricity crackled across her nerves. Suddenly her mouth and throat felt dry and gritty as if she had swallowed sand.

"You shouldn't stand so close to me," she croaked. Her eyes tracked back and forth from one of his storm cloud colored eyes to the other.

"Will I be just another mistake?" he repeated, placing his finger under her chin to keep her head tilted upward.

"I don't know," she replied noncommittally.

"Shall we find out?"

"How?"

His face lowered toward hers.

* * *

~...~

Urie pressed his lips to hers. He had never felt the urge to kiss her so strongly. His lips tingled when hers moved under them. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her body into his. Unexpectedly, her body suddenly slumped against him, her lips falling away from his. Looking down at the listless woman in his arms, he realized she had fallen asleep.

"Well, damn, that is _not_ a self-esteem builder," he muttered.

Urie moved one of his arms to ensconce her shoulders before bending down to slip his other arm behind her knees to lift her into a bridal carry. He took her to the bed, laying her down on top of the worn and faded patchwork quilt that looked like a family heirloom made by a loving great great grandmother. Instead of attempting to get her body under the covers, he pulled the comforter over her to wrap her up like a burrito.

For a moment, he gazed down at her. She looked like an innocent child with her round blushed cheeks and pursed lips red as a rose. She was neither innocent nor a child so he would not have to feel guilty about stealing a kiss from the sleeping woman's soft lips.

Urie did not like the idea of leaving her alone. She had been really upset earlier, acting in a way he had never seen before; enraged, fearful like a caged animal. When he first saw her on the bench in the park, she appeared worried out of her mind. She had been so buried in her own thoughts he had stood right in front of her for several long minutes, staring at her while waiting for her to notice him. But she did not acknowledge him until he spoke to her, calling her name more than once.

Instead of leaving, he pulled the heavy leather chair close to the bed. Kicking off his shoes, he propped his feet on the foot of the bed. She needed someone to watch over her, yet he knew she would never admit it or ask him to do so. He was glad she was asleep. He was in no mood to argue with her.

"Good night, Sleeping Beauty," he murmured, covering himself up with the fuzzy blanket from the back of the chair.

She responded with a loud snort like a pig. A long rattling inhale and another extended snort followed.

"Oh, dear god. She snores," he muttered to himself in mortified disbelief.

It was going to be a long, sleepless night for him. Regardless, he would stay.


	11. The Promise

"Kuki." Miyu called his name, her voice soft and breathy. She sounded so far away. Saying his name again, her voice echoes as if heralding him from a distant dream.

A hazy, rose colored light fills the room. He is alone, naked, sitting in the chair where he had fallen asleep after tucking her into bed. This has to be a dream.

"Kuki," she whispers in his ear, materializing behind him in this fantasy world of his making.

Kukie Urie never had dreams. At least not good ones. Usually he endured night terrors filled with violence, blood, and death. His bad dreams were not much different from the waking nightmares he experienced at work.

Miyu walked around to the front of the chair to stand in front of him. She was naked as well. The lengthy spirals of her black hair covered her breasts, hiding them from his view. His imagination had not been given enough input to supply him with a mere guess as to how her breasts looked.

His eyes traveled along her sides. There were scars, big scars, like something had punctured her on each side of her body. The shiny pink flesh looked like massive wads of chewed bubble gum stuck to her ribs with thick pink ribbons of overgrown repaired flesh extending in several directions across her flawless snowy white skin. What the hell? His brain could conjure ugly scars but not a picture of her breasts?

Urie already knew she was not perfect. Perhaps it was a visual metaphor that she was just as messed up and broken, perfectly imperfect, as anyone else. He had caught a glimpse of her dark side. Having seen that part of her made him realize that there was someone for everyone. Maybe she was meant to be with him.

His eyes continued their downward slide, taking in her rounded hips. Her flat, almost concave belly gave her a lean, hungry appearance as if she did not eat enough. He had seen her eat. She ate a lot. Possibly another allegory indicating she suffered from a different kind of hunger, having not fed on a fat, juicy soul recently.

Urie's eyes skirted over the curly black patch of hair hiding a secret he would like to explore. Studying her creamy white thighs, his mouth watered. They were thick with muscle, round and firm, toned from her frequent walks - and possibly from kicking lots of ghoul ass in another time in her life. He wanted to bite her, sink his teeth into that milky flesh and feel the taut muscle giving way under his teeth.

His attention went to her face when she lowered her body, straddling his lap. Her skin was warm and soft against his. Her silky inner thighs pressed to the outside of his thighs and hips. Her muscles rippled under her skin when she clenched them tightly to him.

An uncomfortable hardness rose between his thighs. Her coarse pubic hairs tickled his erection, making it pulsate. A searing heat and annoying ache spread throughout the lower part of his belly.

"Kuki, do you want me?" Miyu asked, her liquid gold eyes capturing his. Her fingers combed through his hair. She continued stroking his head, petting him. But he liked it.

"Yes, I want you," he answered, his hands sliding up her back. Her shoulder blades were sharp under her satiny skin. "Do you want me?"

"Oh, yes," she breathed, leaning forward to press her chest to his.

Through her soft hair, Urie could feel her rigid nipples against his chest. The enticing mixture of hard and soft textures of her body, physical reflections of her personality, made him want her desperately.

"You're perfect for me," she whispered, her lips grazing his outer ear.

Urie knew he was not perfect in any way, shape, or form. Sadness crept in around the edges of the beautiful, wondrous dream, reminding him that this was not reality.

"I want you," she said, kissing him briefly, gently on the lips. As he recalled, her lips were inviting and supple out of his dreams. "I _need_ you."

Urie gazed at her lovely face. Her eyes exuded an enticing hot, liquid glow. A pretty pink blush tinted her pale cheeks. Her lips, slightly parted and moist, were red as blood.

Blood. His eyes lowered to the thick, pulsing artery running down the side of her neck. A low, deep thump like a slow rhythmic drum solo filled his ears. At first he thought he was listening to his own heartbeat. Watching the movement of the artery, the little jump under her skin with each heart beat, he realized he was hearing hers.

Urie's teeth itched which was by far the strangest sensation he had ever felt. His mouth filled with saliva forcing him to swallow which made an audible sound.

"I know how it feels," Miyu said sympathetically, stroking his head again. Her hand pressed against the back of his neck, pulling him forward. "You're starving."

His lips tingled as they neared the thrumming artery, the sound of heart beat deafening him. He licked his lips, inadvertently licking her in the process. She tasted salty but sweet; a savory dessert, a delectable treat.

"Oh, god," he murmured. "I can't stop."

"Don't stop. Just do it," she encouraged him, pushing her neck against his lips. "Eat me."

Urie opened his mouth, sinking his teeth into her flesh. Slicing through the skin, blood leaked into his mouth thick and sweet like a syrup. Holding her hips, he thrust his hips upward, sliding his throbbing manhood inside of her wet, waiting body.

Miyu wailed, the mournful howl a provocative mixture of pain and pleasure. Her cry enticed him to bite harder, sinking his teeth into the firm muscle, relishing the meatiness. Chewing off a hunk of her flesh released a tidal wave of blood that choked him. The vermilion liquid overflowed his lips, gushing down his neck to spill over his chest in a bloody wave.

"Holy shit!" Urie exclaimed, shaking himself awake.

"Are you all right?" Miyu asked. She stood in front of him in the powder blue t-shirt gown. Her big hazel eyes blinked at him as if he had grown a second head.

"I'm fine," he panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead using his forearm covered by his dark gray-green dress shirt. "Just a..."

He was shaken by the erotic horror movie that had been playing in his head. It had not been a nightmare exactly but not a sweet dream either.

"Just a dream," he muttered, his head dropping back on the chair.

"Here. Drink this," she said, handing him a glass of cold water. "It sounded like a terrible nightmare from all of the twitching and thrashing around you were doing. But the moaning and groaning made me assume you were dreaming about sex."

"Oh, shit," he grumbled, drinking the water.

He was too embarrassed to be offended by her brazen bluntness. Humiliated, feeling dirty from the inside out, he wanted to make a hasty exit, but his legs were too shaky to support him at the moment.

"Do you want to take a shower? I can wash your clothes for you," she offered.

"Sure. That would be great," he answered, ready to wash off the crust of sweat coating his body. If only he could wash away the mental dregs of the bloody, sexy nightmare.

"Leave your clothes by the bathroom door. My robe is hanging on the hook behind the door. You can wear that after your shower," she instructed him.

She sounded extremely motherly at the moment which made him feel more like a degenerate. Once he finished drinking the water and believed his legs would carry him, he got up to go to the bathroom. His knees buckled, letting him down quite literally.

But she was immediately there: her head tucked under his arm, her body bracing his to keep him from falling. Without a word, she assisted him with walking the short distance to his destination.

Urie wanted to die of embarrassment. Such shameful behavior. He wasn't weak dammit! He wanted to be strong for her so she could rely on him, lean on him, not the other way around.

"Kuki, thank you for staying with me last night," she said, lifting his arm from her shoulders when they entered the bathroom.

"You were too pathetic for me to leave you. A man of any worth would not leave a woman in such a weak, vulnerable state," he returned, frantically piecing together the shards of his shattered pride.

"Hmmm," she hummed, a knowing smile stretching her lips. "You're a good man, Kuki Urie. I like you."

"Dammit," he muttered. His contrived conceit could not fool her. She saw through his pitiful display of false egotism and complimented him.

Urie felt her fingers at his collar, working to unbutton his shirt. His hands went to hers, but he stopped before pushing her away.

"I can do it," he stated flatly, tamping down his humiliation induced anger.

"I know," she rejoined, her eyes meeting his.

He sighed in relief to see her irises were their normal hazel color, not the mesmerizing gold that made him lose all of his sensibilities and self-control.

"But I want to help you. Let me help you," she begged, loosing the button she held between her fingers.

Urie dropped his hands from hers, lowering his eyes as well. If he stared into those captivating eyes of hers too long, he would be tempted to kiss her, to touch her.

Her hands were cool as they skimmed across his bare chest, pushing his shirt over his shoulders. Her smooth fingertips blazed a trail down both of his arms until she dragged the shirt free of his hands. Draping the shirt over her forearm, she grabbed the button of his black pants but paused to look at his face.

"Are you really going to let me do this?" she asked when his eyes reconnected with hers.

"You said you wanted to help me," he reminded her, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Did you change your mind?"

"Of course not," she replied, giving him a forced smile rife with pride and determination.

Urie held his breath when she slid down the zipper, her fingers brushing ever so lightly along the front of his underwear. The discomforting sexual ache returned as strongly as he had felt it in his dream. He regretted baiting her when she stepped closer to him, her fingers edging along the waist band of his pants.

His knees threatened to betray him again when her fingers slipped under the waistband at his back. Her hands skimmed along his behind as she pushed down his trousers. He pressed his hands to her shoulders, leaning into her to lift one foot, then the other, so she could remove the pants completely.

Kuki Urie gnawed the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the sexual urgency making him pulsate and ache so profoundly he actually felt nauseated. He refused to let the desire for sex to incapacitate him, debilitating his body and diminishing his rational thinking. He would not allow her to have that kind of power over him.

"That's not everything," he informed her.

Her mouth came dangerously close to his when she stood back up to face him. She smiled, a sultry lopsided grin.

"I'm sure you can handle that yourself," she said. "I'll wait outside for your underwear."

 _Fucking tease,_ he thought to himself, watching her exit the small room and close the door. Seductive smirking bitch. She could give it as good as she could take it. He liked her too. A lot.

~\\..'../~

"Here."

Miyu held out the pile of clothing hanging on her arm so he could drop the pair of silky black underwear on top. She had expected him to be tightie whitie kind of man because he acted so stiff and formal. The sexy underwear had been a nice surprise.

Taking the clothes to the kitchen where the washer and dryer was located in the makeshift broom closet, she set about getting them started to wash. The timer for her brownies dinged at the same time she closed the door of the washer.

"Good timing," she told herself.

Miyu took the pan of brownies out of the oven, setting them on a trivet beside one of the chocolate cake layers already cooling on the counter. Although she had awakened hours ago, she could not bear to wake the sleeping man who had stayed to be her guardian.

Seeing him there had been a shock. Nervous from Kuki Urie's unexpected presence and still reeling from the encounter with Haise Sasaki, Miyu had carefully got out of bed to keep from waking him to go to the kitchen. When upset, she liked to bake. Her cravings steered her toward chocolate.

She had once heard that a chemical in chocolate acted as a replacement for the same hormone released upon orgasm during sex. Chocolate chocolate chip muffins, three layers of chocolate cake, baked chocolate pudding, and a pan of chocolate brownies hinted that she was seriously overcompensating for something else she wanted but could not have.

She chewed her lower lip recalling the sensual excitement that had burned so hotly inside of her when she was undressing him. It had taken every ounce of her self-control not to kiss him. Everything within her wanted to ravage his lips then rip off his underwear to plunder his body.

"Oh, god," she moaned, covering her eyes as if to hide from her self-induced embarrassment.

Her face burned at the thought of taking advantage of him. Sometimes her own thoughts bothered her. The primal, animalistic side of her occasionally reared its awful head in the most disturbing ways.

"Are you okay?" Urie inquired, entering the kitchen.

"Uhm, yeah," she murmured, sliding the second pan of brownies into the oven for cooking. These contained walnuts where the first ones did not.

"Something smells great."

"Do you want one?" She picked up one of the double chocolate muffins to offer it to him.

Turning she saw he was standing there, dripping wet from the shower with a towel around his waist. The water from his hair created minuscule rivers down his face and neck. His damp chest glistened in the bright yellow sunlight filling the room from the windows currently free of the blinds and curtains.

His deceptively thin body was covered in smooth yet firm, defined muscles. She had felt them under her hands earlier but had not really paid much attention to them visually as she was fighting off the sexual yearning tempting her to do bad things in the best way to him. The ropy muscles of his forearm swelled into squirming elongated bumps under his warmly tanned skin as he dried his soaked hair with the towel in his hand.

"I said there was a robe behind the door," she stated, sounding rather agitated.

She was extremely perturbed. Her metaphorical feathers were still ruffled from the provocative act of his assisted striptease.

Urie raised his nose into the air and sniffed.

"But it smells so good. I wanted to come see what you were doing," he said, moving to stand beside her.

The way he casually leaned against the counter, holding a conversation with her as if he weren't mostly naked, unnerved her. She was sure he was torturing himself as much as he was torturing her. The game they were playing had changed, and she no longer knew the rules.

"What are we doing, Urie?" she inquired, tearing the muffin in half.

She held out a half of the warm baked treat to him. He took it, allowing his fingers to enclose hers momentarily before pulling away with the food in his hand.

"I don't know what you mean," he lied, playing at innocence and failing. He bit the muffin, making a humming sound of approval and satisfaction.

"Does it _really_ taste good?" she asked, squinting her eyes as she studied him.

"It's great. I love chocolate," he stated in a droning, lifeless voice.

Miyu was less than convinced.

"Finish it then," she requested, shoving the entire half of her muffin in her mouth to make herself be quiet.

She observed him carefully as he stared at the muffin. He took a small bite, then shoved the rest into his mouth nearly swallowing it without chewing at all. He went as far as licking the melted chocolate chips from his fingers to make her think he enjoyed it. The light brown sugar color of his complexion faded. He looked like he wanted to vomit.

His odd reaction to the food from Oshiba's had raised her suspicions. Her heart sank into her belly as her worst fears were confirmed. Although the idea of him becoming more of a ghoul worried her, she had actually planned not to mention it. Not that she could not handle him, one monster to another, what remained of his humanity would devolve as his inclination to ingest people increased. The hunger would drive him insane.

Miyu knew the obsessive cravings all too well because she had them herself, although in a different way. She devoured the soul, the mind and emotions, in contrast to a ghoul's preference to consume the body. Once his need for flesh fully manifested, he would never return to who he is presently. But maybe she could help him. Or maybe he would bring out the beast in her. Between the both of them, they would make the ultimate killing team, a demolition duo equipped to destroy so completely there would be nothing left of a person.

Despite already knowing on a conscious level what was happening to him, her emotions refused to process the possibility of him developing more ghoul qualities. However, she needed to hear it from Urie's lips.

"Don't lie to me. I know your Rc levels have gone up tremendously since your second surgery. Your DNA is changing. You're becoming less human and more ghoul. Have you started craving flesh?"

"Yes," he confessed.

"Have you - " Her voice faltered, her words getting caught behind the lump of emotion clogging her throat. "Have you fed yet?"

"No. And I don't want to. I can still taste food some times. The first bite of that muffin was great. I really do like chocolate. But the second bite..." He pressed his hand to his belly as if to hold down the food. "I didn't want this to happen. I just wanted to be better. Stronger. To avenge my father by killing the One Eyed Owl."

Miyu's chest constricted as she looked at him. His face twisted in anguish, putting on display every ounce of his pain, his sorrow, and his anger.

"I wanted to be better than Haise Sasaki. Better than Ken Kaneki," he added, bitterness and hatred lacing his voice.

Miyu physically winced, recoiling from him at the mention of Kaneki. Without thinking, her arms folded across her chest as if to provide a physical barrier from the memory of him. Her fingers rubbed her scars in an unconscious act of self-soothing. Distracted by her thoughts, she did not notice Urie's proximity until his arms were around her, gathering her to his chest in a bear hug with her arms trapped between them.

"Help me," he whispered in her ear.

"I will," she agreed. "But only on one condition."

His body stiffened against hers in apprehension. Apparently he was accustomed to strings being attached, of people having ulterior motives.

"You have to help me too." She lay her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes to revel in his embrace. "We have to save each other."

"I can do that," he assured her, cradling her head in his hand and pressing her cheek to his bare chest. "I swear, I will hold onto you as long as you hold onto me."

"I promise, I will not let you go."


	12. The Farewell

"Can I help you with anything else, ma'am?" the taxi driver asked after setting the second box of documents on the sidewalk.

The small man shifted anxiously from foot to foot, twisting his flat cap in his hands. His eyes slid to the CCG Headquarters then back to Miyu's face. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, and he ran his hand through his thinning gray hair. Definitely a ghoul.

She did not want to keep him here lest the investigators get a whiff of the harmless old man and needlessly kill him. He probably relied on one of the underground specialty butcher shops catering the weaker ghouls. There was one in her neighborhood. During the day, the store was extraordinarily ordinary selling beef, pork, and chicken - a run of the mill meat shop. At night, they shuttled human contraband out of the back door to hungry ghouls.

"Nothing else. You've been a wonderful help. Thank you," she said, handing him the cab fare along with a huge monetary tip. Then she decided to offer him another, possibly more helpful tip. "By the way, you should stop by Fujiwara's Meat Shop. They have special sales after ten."

The old man's narrow eyes widened into huge circles. "But Miss Nakashima - "

"It's okay," she assured him. "You can give Mrs. Fujiwara my name. She will take care of you."

"Th-thank y-you," he stammered, bowing quickly.

Miyu watched him toddle back to the driver's seat of his yellow taxi cab. He would probably need a good meal after assisting her with these boxes. She glanced down at the heavy cargo waiting for her to tote them into the imposing white building stretching up the sky with shiny glass windows reflecting the blue sky and white clouds.

"Need a little help?"

Miyu turned to see Ginshi Shirazu standing beside the boxes already picking one up. His hair was different. Although shaved close to the scalp, he still sported the two little wild pieces sticking up at the crown of his head. Him cutting off his glorious, long blond mane surprised her. Something bad must have happened.

"That would be great," she sighed in relief, hefting the other up from the ground. "I like your hair."

"Thanks," he muttered, the smile falling from his face.

"How is your sister?" she inquired tentatively. Surely Haru had not taken a bad turn. The poor girl.

"She's the same. No worse...but no better either," he replied his voice hollow and desolate.

Poor Ginshi. He looked so looked despondent, weary - guilty. She wanted to ask what else was bothering him, but they had entered the building.

"I baked a chocolate cake I'd like for you try if you want to come by the cafe tonight," she offered.

"That would be awesome!" he exclaimed happily.

MIyu smiled only for it to vanish seconds later when Haise Sasaki appeared from around the corner.

"MIss Nakashima," Haise stated flatly, blinking at her with his big innocent eyes.

God, she wanted to slap him. That guileless face hid the fragmented, corrupt man and ghoul inside. Ken Kaneki had only become the frightening monster others had made him. One of those people included her.

"Are you here to see Arima?" he asked.

 _Hell no, I'm not here to see Arima - or you,_ she almost blurted before stopping herself.

"I'm actually here to see Dr. Shiba. I have to return some things to him," she said, not wanting to divulge she had been digging around in their medical files.

"Let me carry that for you," Haise insisted, reaching to take the box from her. His hands covered hers, making him blush. Quickly he moved his hands to another part of the box to take it from her.

"Well, if you don't mind taking those to him - "

"You're not coming?" He acted surprised.

"No. I should leave. I don't belong here," she said, turning on her heel to leave.

"You're not taking the job then?" The corners of his mouth drooped with disappointment.

Miyu shook her head. "No. It's not a good idea for anyone."

"Job? What job?" Shirazu questioned Sasaki.

"Arima offered her a position to be the therapist for the Quinx Squad. She used to work her as a counselor. And an investigator," he added, meeting her gaze as if to dare her to deny the facts.

"I wasn't an investigator," she corrected him. "I was Arima's back up. His helper."

"His guard dog," a soft, almost feminine, male voice butted in.

Miyu's head whipped to the right to see Furuta Nimura standing beside her giving her a leering grin, sickening in its fake friendliness. He was anything but a friend.

"Hello, Cerberus." He greeted her using the uncomplimentary nickname she had received from the other investigators. They gave her the name of the three headed demon dog guarding the gates of Hades as a one word commentary on her vicious fighting skills as well as her ferocious personality.

Furuta still looked the same. Skinny, delicate featured, pretty as a young teenage girl with a voice to match.

"You're still gorgeous I see. We really should chat some time so I can learn your skin care secret. I want to be be as beautiful as you are some day," she said with plenty of venom in her voice.

She ignored the shocked expressions on Sasaki and Shirazu's faces. They knew her as a kind, gentle soul. Lately, her true self had become more difficult to suppress. She could sympathize with Haise and his internal battle with Ken.

"Hmph," Furuta snorted, his expression collapsing into a severe glower.

"Frowning gives you wrinkles," she uttered, watching his face further deteriorate. Creases formed on his smooth brow and between his eyes.

"If you'll follow me, please," Haise interjected, elbowing the stubborn woman having a weird glaring contest with Furuta that was making everyone uncomfortable.

Miyu took his cue to offset an even uglier scene and turned to follow him down the hallway from where he had appeared earlier. She exhaled loudly when they entered the elevator at the end of the hallway.

"So you did work here," Shirazu murmured, pressing the button for the top floor. "Cerberus?"

"Please, don't ask. I'd rather not explain," she muttered, staring at her reflection in the shiny golden doors of the elevator.

 _Ugh,_ she groaned inwardly. Thunderstruck, reeling from seeing another unwelcome member of the CCG to remind her of her dark past, she wanted to run away. She had tried to run away as a matter of fact before Furuta had showed up. Lately, there was no where to run, no where to hide, no where to escape her past.

Her thoughts turned to home. Not her apartment above the cafe, but her real home in the mountains. Her father still lived there with a few other members of their colony. They stayed hidden away from the world, avoiding humans as much as possible. He had warned her not to stray from their sanctuary hidden among the trees and wildlife. Life was quiet, simple - free of humans and ghouls.

But she had wanted to visit where her mother had lived. She wanted to experience life as a human, live like her mother had lived. At this rate, she would die like her mother had died. She sighed long and deep; a sound full of frustration and remorse.

Her eyes caught Haise's in the mirror like finish of the door. He smiled at her. He possessed such a kind, genuine smile. Ken Kaneki had probably smiled like that before he became a ghoul. God damn this city anyway. The doors suddenly slid apart destroying both of their reflections.

"We will drop these off to Dr. Shiba, and I will see you out," Haise announced.

Miyu did not argue. Should she run into another investigator when she worked here before, she did not want to be alone. She waited in the hall by the elevator rather than following the two men down to Dr. Shiba's office. Although she would have liked to have a discussion with the good doctor, she doubted her ability to function on a professional level at this time.

When they returned, all three boarded the elevator. Shirazu pressed the button for the ninth floor. Sasaki pressed the button for the fifth floor instead of G for the ground level. Everyone nerve in her body stood up on end, her senses going on high alert.

"Don't forget about our meeting this afternoon," Haise told Shirazu when the doors opened for his floor.

"Yes, sir," he returned, nodding in acknowledgment.

"The ninth floor is the infirmary, isn't it?" she inquired after the doors closed. Being alone with him coupled with the silence sent her apprehension off the charts.

"Yes. He's going to see Haru," Haise answered. "I need to talk to you before you go."

"O-okay," she stuttered.

Her fingers were cold and numb, lacing and unlacing to quell her anxiety. The nervous movement did not help. She knew being alone with him was a bad idea. Kaneki was bound to show up. Obviously, he responded to her presence in a less than positive manner.

When they stepped off the elevator, a lengthy hallway stretched out in front of them. The entire floor was deserted, void of all personnel. Doors were closed and blinds tightly shut on either side of the empty hallway. Apparently all of the higher ups were in some kind of meeting today.

"Last door on the left," Haise indicated.

Miyu held her breath when he turned the knob and pushing open the door to allow her entry. It was the one office where the blinds were open, a single muted light in the corner switched on in the otherwise dark office.

"Thank you for your help, Haise," she said, turning to face him.

She gasped in astonishment when her nose almost smashed into his chest. Taking a step backwards, the desk halted her retreat.

"I really should be going now." She tried to slide to the left to escape from between him and the desk. He edged closing, trapping her in the already small space, forcing her to sit down on the desk.

"What's the hurry?" he asked, his voice low, menacing.

"Hello, Ken," she sighed. Her breathing was heavy, ragged, turning her voice into a raspy whisper.

"So nice to see you again," he whispered directly in her ear, his hot breath ghosting over her cheek. "Did you miss me?"

"How do you expect me to answer that?" she asked, starting when his hand rested on her hip. "No matter what I say it will be the wrong answer. If I say yes, I'm a liar. If I say no, I'm a bitch."

"Let me be frank with you, Miss Nakashima," he murmured, his chest vibrating against hers as he spoke. "You're a lying bitch no matter what you say or do."

"You're right." She concurred wholeheartedly with his opinion of her. "I did awful things to you. I lied to you. I mistreated you. I abused you. I pushed you and pushed you and..."

"Say it," he hissed, pushing her down on the desk.

"I buried you. I tried to kill you," she confessed. She wanted to cry but could not find the sorrow or tears inside of her. Instead she was angry - and afraid. "I am so sorry, Ken."

"Every day, I've thought about you." He spoke to her in a soft, carefully measured voice as if attempting to comfort a terrified, cornered animal. "I've thought about what I would do to you if I ever found you."

His fingers pulled the dark purple button down shirt out of her skirt, his fingers slipping under the satiny fabric. He pressed his frigid fingertips to her side, sliding them upward.

"Ken, don't," she begged him but his fingers did not cease their upward climb.

"Do you ever think about me?" he asked.

MIyu bit her lower lip to hold back a scream when his fingers brushed over the marred tissue where he had skewered her. The nerve endings under the skin there had never quite healed correctly afflicting the area with a numb, tingling sensation when touched. He stroked the skin lightly, bringing a pins and needles sensation to her side.

"Yes," she replied truthfully through her gritted teeth.

"Of course you think about me. I'm in your head, crawling through your brain. Always there. Never forgotten." He continued rubbing the scar until she began trembling. His hands were cold - like a dead man's. "Do you remember the day I gave you these scars? A matching set. I thrusted into you so hard. I went so deep."

"Shut up," she commanded him in a hoarse whisper, turning her face away from him when the tip of his nose bumped the end of hers.

The sexual innuendo disgusted her and infuriated her. He grabbed her side, pinching the sensitive skin until she yelped. Then he returned to stroking her scar gently. His other hand skimmed along her belly over the top of her shirt.

"You still feel me sometimes. Don't you? I'm there...squirming, thrusting...writhing around inside you...touching you in a way no one has ever touched you before and never will again."

"Stop it, Ken," she bit out angrily, repulsed by the double entendre.

His palm pressed to her throat, his fingers extending along the sides of her neck.

"You always called me by my first name. So familiar. Like family. Like a mother," he exhaled, flexing his fingers around her neck, exerting enough pressure to make her gasp for air. "I trusted you. I thought you wanted to help me."

"I did. I did want to help you," she croaked, struggling to breathe. "I just did all of the wrong things to do that. I was ambitious and selfish. I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that!" he yelled, releasing her. "I don't want to hear it anymore!"

"Kill me. Stop the pain for both of us. I won't resist," she said, her eyes meeting his.

His eyes swam with tears. The hurt and sadness lying in the dark gray depths made her heart ache. She was tired; tired of running from her guilt, from her past, and, mostly, from him.

"Killing you won't help," he returned, glaring at her. "It won't stop the pain."

"I know." She put her arms around his shoulders, pulling his head down to her shoulder. "It will only make it worse. All I ever did was make you worse."

"Does it ever get better?" he sniffled.

"No, it never gets better," she answered truthfully. "You try to forget, but you can't. You learn to cope. But the pain is always there, threatening to consume you...to kill you."

"He's going to kill me, isn't he?" Haise was back. He pulled away from her, looking down at her. The tears brimming in his eyes overflowed his lower eyelids and spilled down his cheeks.

She nodded mutely, unable to speak. Her throat constricted to hold back the tears. It was also raw and scratchy from him choking her as well.

"But I don't..." He dropped to his knees in front of her, pressing his forehead to her belly. "But I don't want to die."

"I'm sorry, Haise," she apologized, wrapping her arms around his head. "You must understand something." She began swaying slightly, rocking him like a mother rocks a fussy infant. "You were never meant to exist Haise Sasaki. You were a fantasy, a fiction, an untruth. You never really existed at all. You should just die."

"Mother." The singular word spoken in a growl, coated with so much vitriol only one person could have said it that way - Ken Kaneki.

Jerking out of her arms, he stood up to come face to face with her again. Both of his hands encompassed her throat, squeezing, cutting off her air.

Miyu resisted her natural urge to strike him in an effort to protect herself. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk under her behind instead of reaching up to claw at his grasping hands compressing her windpipe.

"Hit me. Slap me. Scream at me," he taunted her, bringing his lips extremely close to hers.

She would not beat on his chest or kick him because he wanted her to do those things. He needed her to struggle.

"Fight for your life...or you'll die," he threatened her.

Black lines started to wiggle across her line of vision. Starbursts of blinding white light exploded in front of her eyes. Her white knuckled grip on the desk slackened. She would lose consciousness soon, but she did not care.

When his words did not incite her to violence to free herself, he bellowed, "Punch me in the face! Claw my fucking eyes out! Goddammit woman! Hurt me!"

She knew he needed to engage her in full combat to completely enjoy killing her. Although everything within her prompted her to resist him, she smothered the desire to defend herself.

 _This is it. He's going to kill me,_ she thought, closing her eyes. _I'm sorry, Kuki._

As her life ebbed away, her body sagging in his hands, Ken's fingers loosened their hold on her throat until his hands eventually fell away. His arms hung down, pendulous at his sides. Leaning forward, he pressed his sweaty forehead into her shoulder, nestling his head into the curve of her neck.

"You should be hitting me like you used to. You always reminded me of my mother. Cruel. Sadistic. Hateful. I wanted your attention. Craved it. When you gave it to me, I was happy. So insanely happy."

Her chest heaved under his head as she sucked in air, desperate to fill her starved lungs.

"Tell me something...why did you try to kill me back then?" Miyu questioned him, panting lightly. "You were never so shallow as to want to kill me for a simple matter of revenge. Not now and certainly not four years ago."

"You were leaving me. I needed you. If I killed you, I could eat you and you would always be with me," he explained. His naturally sinister tone made the blunt admission twice as creepy. His arms encircled her waist. "I loved you, Mother."

"What's going on here?" Arima demanded, entering his office.

"Arima," the young man holding her gasped. He immediately let her go, standing up straight and turning to face his superior.

Miyu was not yet sure if he was Ken or Haise. She did not care which personality now steered that vessel. She was leaving. Rushing forward, her hasty exit was stopped by Arima seizing her by the arm.

"What's wrong? You look scared out of your damn mind," he said to her, his eyes expressing concern as he took in her appearance.

"I am. I have to go, Kishou. I won't take the job. I can't do this."

She glanced back at the young man she guessed to be Haise at the moment; he looked as fearful and confused as he had after the incident in Arima's study. For the first time, she noticed that there was quite a bit more black in his hair. Only about an inch at the tips remained white.

"It won't be long before Haise's gone," she warned Arima.

"What can I do to stop it?"

Miyu shrugged. She actually felt sorry for the man seeing the cloud of fear creep into his incandescent silvery eyes diminishing their shining light. This was only the second time in her life she had seen fear in Kishou Arima's eyes.

"There's nothing anyone can do." The despair in his eyes ripped at her heart. She reached out to glide her fingers down his perfect porcelain cheek.

"Don't," he muttered, taking her hand in his and pulling it away from his face. "Don't take it away. Let me feel the pain. It makes me feel human."

Miyu stayed silent. She placed her hand on Arima's chest over his heart. The material of his white coat was the softest leather; expensive, well taken care of and well worn. She remembered when he had wrapped her in his coat to take her to the hospital after her fight with Kaneki.

His heart bumped against her palm as if might beat out of his chest. Sometimes this is how a heart feels when it's breaking.

"I hate feeling helpless. I wish there was something I could do," he murmured where only she could hear.

"There's nothing any of us can do. Not you. Not me. Not even Haise." Her gaze flickered back to the stunned and silently crying young man leaning against the desk. Inclining her head toward Arima, she whispered, "Be prepared to tell him good-bye, Kishou."

"Is he the only one I should be telling good-bye?"

"Good-bye, Kishou Arima," she said with a sad note of finality.

"I can't bring myself to say the good in good-bye so I will bid you farewell, Miyu Nakashima."


	13. The Second Promise

Miyu sat at the counter of her empty coffee shop with a pan of brownies in front of her and her favorite extra large mug full of fresh brewed coffee. It was early in the evening, around six.

Restless, unnerved, and angry from the encounter with Kaneki, she had come home to clean her apartment then proceeded to go downstairs to the coffee shop to clean everything spotless including polishing all of the coffee implements twice.

Tired, her back aching, and her fingers cramping, she sat down for a little chocolate therapy. Foregoing a plate, she picked up a fork to stab the center, the gooey heart, of the brownies with walnuts. There would be no shame or guilt for eating the whole damn pan by herself. She was experiencing far too much shame and guilt for other sins she had committed in her life.

The insanity needed to stop. All of it. Perhaps she should go home for a while, separate herself from all of the things driving her crazy. She could reconnect with her roots, find her center before she fell hopelessly off kilter. Maybe she should ask Kuki to go with her, to meet her father, and to allow him to learn more about her. Nah, too soon for meeting Dad.

Miyu shoved a fork full of fudgy nut laden chocolate into her mouth. She closed her eyes to savor the sweet treat, humming in satisfaction. Nothing soothed the soul quite like chocolate.

There was a knock on the door. Surely not a customer. It was far too early and the closed sign was displayed prominently. The sound had been more of a tap really. Like someone barely striking one of the small panes of glass in the multi sectioned window of the door with a knuckle. The tentative knock made her think the person did not want to be heard.

Sliding off of the bar stool, Miyu tiptoed to the door. Pulling back the side of the window-shade with a single finger, she peeked through the long slit. No one. Hmm, weird. She knew she heard someone. Pulling the sun yellowed shade back further, she caught a glimpse of a back covered by a fawn colored coat, fur trim around the hood, moving away at a fast clip. Only one person, one Dove, she knew, wore a coat like that. Flipping the lock and twisting the doorknob, she flung open the door.

"Ginshi!" she yelled to make him stop. "I'm here!"

Ginshi froze in his tracks, his head and shoulders drooping. Gradually he rotated his body to face her. He smiled, a forced upturning of his lips that did not erase the cloud of gloom covering not just his face but his entire being.

"Come on in," she invited him, waving him forward as if he were a shy child. "Let's talk."

Once he was inside, she closed and locked the door then rushed behind the counter to cut the cake and pour him a cup of coffee. At first they sat in silence, chewing on their desserts and their feelings.

"I almost missed your knock," Miyu said, opening the channel for communication. "Were you hoping I wasn't here?"

"Yeah," he admitted, poking at the remaining crumbs of the cake. "This was delicious."

"Thank you."

More silence followed. However, it was not necessarily uncomfortable. It's true what they say that misery loves company, and at the moment both of them were stewing in their angst.

"How did you handle it when you killed someone for the first time?" Ginshi questioned her.

"Honestly, it took a while for the reality of what I had done to sink in. It was too surreal to believe. Like I was having a bad dream, but I was awake," she said, trying to remember exactly how it had felt.

"It wasn't like that for me. As I looked at her, this weight...this crushing weight settled into my chest," he said, patting his chest with the flat of his palm. "I thought I was having a heart attack or something. It hurt. And it made me sad. The worst kind of sad I didn't know existed."

Miyu pensively sipped her coffee, mulling over his words. His reaction seemed much more normal than hers. She never really had experienced much emotion about killing - sometimes a tinge of remorse, anger, or disgust - and nothing at all from her first kill. Of course, as Arima had so brilliantly pointed out to her as they stood over the dead body of her first dead ghoul, she had literally been bred and born to kill just like the man she had murdered.

"Something she said before dying reminded me of my sister. I think that's what has bothered me the most," he murmured. "I feel like sometimes I didn't do enough to help my sister. So that's why I do what I do now. I kill to make money to save Haru."

Miyu refilled his cup. She slid the half eaten pan of brownies over his way. Without a word, he dug into the corner extracting a large piece of the more well done, cake like textured part of the brownie.

"We all do things we hate, that we regret, to help others," she muttered, taking a large gulp of the strong bitter coffee that matched her emotions. "At least what you're doing isn't harming anyone. At least no one that doesn't deserve what they get."

"Does it ever get any easier to deal with?" he inquired, staring directly at her.

Miyu avoided his intent gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. That was the second time today someone had asked her that question. A person hurting so profoundly they were desperate to cease their agony. She could only offer empty words, platitudes and useless advice, in an effort to ease their suffering. Once again, she would be completely honest.

"No," she stated with harsh bluntness. "You get used to it. Well, I don't think you can ever grow accustomed to taking a life, not even that of a murderous ghoul, but you go numb. You do what you have to do. Keep your goal in mind. Remember why you're doing what you do. That will help."

She hoped. How could he believe her words when she did not believe the bullshit spewing out of her mouth?

"Thanks, Miss Miyu."

There was a knock on the door. A powerful banging on the wooden part of the door with a closed fist. Before she was off of her seat, the person was already knocking again. She only knew one person who knocked on a door that way.

"Kuki," she murmured, ripping open the door.

"Is Shirazu here?" he demanded without a greeting.

"Hi, honey. It's nice to see you too," she greeted him with sarcasm. If he had at least said hello, she would have been genuinely been happy to see him.

"I'm here," Ginshi said, coming to stand behind her. "What's up?"

"Come on. We need to get to headquarters. We have a big mission," he told Ginshi, ignoring the woman standing right in front of him.

"How big?" Miyu asked, doubting he would tell her.

"Big," he replied vaguely, giving her the answer she expected.

"A good chance you'll die kind of big?" she questioned him.

Urie stared at her, his eyes a blank slate.

"I'll be waiting outside," Ginshi announced, opening the door wider to slide past Miyu.

Urie gently pushed her into the cafe, kicking the door closed behind him.

"There's always a chance I could die on any mission," he reminded her as if she had forgotten what it was like to be a member of the ghoul investigation squad.

"I have a gut feeling that this assignment ranks higher on the danger scale than most. You said mission. That usually means an intricate operation. This is a well planned conclusion to an investigation that will bring down a serious ghoul or group of ghouls."

Urie smiled, that cocky sideways grin of his that infuriated her. At the moment, his confident smirk made her tremble because she knew she had nailed it.

"You're so very smart," he said, almost sounding like he was mocking her.

Miyu held his gaze when he reached out to stroke her cheek with his gloved hand. Her eyes did not leave his when he withdrew his hand abruptly, bringing it to his mouth to remove the glove using his teeth. She reached up to take the piece of black leather out of his mouth when he cupped her cheek with his bare hand.

The electrical tingle of his skin against hers created a humming noise in her ears. The hairs along the back of her neck stood on end with anticipation, not fear, when he lowered his mouth to hers. A spark crackled between them as his lips touched hers for their first real kiss.

Her fingers gripped the lapels of his coat as he kissed her with a tenderness she had only been given the hint of a promise of until now. His lips lifted briefly before pressing back to hers in a more insistent, urgent kiss. She sighed when his arms enveloped her, holding her close but maintaining a gentle pressure on her body. He kissed her and embraced her in a way that encouraged her to meet him halfway, following through on her own emotions.

Miyu's lips parted and his followed suit. His tongue immediately sought hers for a short meeting, a simple touch, before retreating. She whimpered as his lips closed, puckering to kiss hers before lifting.

She kept her eyes closed, possessively holding onto him by his coat as he pressed his forehead to hers. Worry tightened her gut and made every muscle in her body rigid. She did not want him to leave her, but she knew he had to go.

"You better come back to me," she commanded him.

"I will," he promised. He kissed her again, quickly.

Miyu reluctantly unhinged her fingers from his leather jacket, smoothing out the lapels and patting his chest.

"Go," she said, stepping back from him.

"I'll come back. When I do, I'm going to make you mine." For the first time, he gave her a sincere smile.

Her belly turned somersaults of joy seeing that smile. Her guts instantly constricted into a tight, sickening knot of anxiety when he opened the door and stepped outside. The tears in her eyes caused his image to ripple.

"I'm already yours," she laughed to push down the fear welling inside her.

"No, I mean - "

"Hey, Urie!" Ginshi yelled, opening the door to the cab. "Let's go!"

Urie's eyes met hers. "You know what I mean."

"Is that a threat or a promise, Kuki Urie?"

"Oh, it's definitely a promise."

As he walked away, Miyu thought, _It's a promise you damn well better keep, Kuki Urie._


	14. Comfort for a Hurting Heart

Thank you all for staying with me and being patient through some of the preceding chapters. There was a method behind the madness I assure you. The two main purposes were giving insight to her past without using numerous, lengthy flashbacks and foreshadowing events to come without giving anything away. I'm not sure how anyone is feeling about this since no one has reviewed so thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

The sun hung high in the sky; a blazing ball of white light punishing all those below with its heat. Miyu drew the shades, then the curtains. The carnation pink curtains spread their rose colored hue across the room from the rays of the sun filtering around the edges of the thick canvas shade meant to block them.

Laying down on the bed, she sighed. Exhausted. Frustrated. Afraid. She had not heard from Kuki. Not a phone call. Not a text. She had been sure he would turn up at her door when the mission was complete.

Staring at the ceiling, she tried not to allow terrible scenes of his demise to unfold in her head, implanting a seed of doubt that he had not survived. Rolling onto her side, she held her pillow to her quivering belly in hopes of quelling the nausea brought on by worry.

 _Bang, bang, bang!_ Someone beat on her back door as if they intended to break it down to gain entry.

Hopping off the bed, Miyu ran down the stairs nearly falling twice before careening across the small foyer to slide in the door with a bang that mimicked the earlier intense knocking. She threw open the door to be grabbed, strong arms encasing her waist and squeezing as if they wanted to break her in two. The momentum with which he hit her slammed them both into the wall beside the foot of the staircase. His hands cradled her head, preventing her skull from taking an abusive hit. The body leaning against her was lean, rangy, but powerful - and trembling.

A warm wetness dribbled onto her face as she tried but failed to focus on the face mere inches from her eyes. She recognized the two distinct moles under the left eye that was closed tightly, tears streaming from the inner corner sliding along the side of his narrow nose, across his lips, and dripping from his chin onto her chest.

"Kuki, what - " Before she could complete the inquiry, his lips smashed against hers in a brutal, forceful kiss.

His hands moved from holding her head to holding her face between his palms. He covered her entire face with many hard kisses before finding her lips again. The kiss this time was far gentler, seeking comfort, no longer wanting to consume her in his panic. His mouth slid from hers, catching her full lower lip between his thin lips in an strange but provocative kiss.

Miyu moaned as his bare hands on her face created an electrical sting that awakened every nerve in her body. His touch had the most bizarre way of exciting her on a disturbingly deep level. Her arms encircled his shoulders, holding him to her chest. His mouth glided away from hers, his lips skimming along her neck.

"What happened?" she croaked, stroking his head.

Her body started shaking under the soft caress of his hands moving along her arms. Her knees dissolved into jelly, and her body made a gradual, slightly controlled, slide down the wall. They crumpled onto the floor together, her holding his head against his chest that was becoming soaked with his tears. His entire body quaked in her arms so fiercely he vibrated her body as well.

"So many died. It was awful. He's dead. He died right in front of me. He's dead. I couldn't save him. He's dead. He's dead," he chanted cryptically, his voice rising each time he repeated the phrase. He continued chanting, gaining volume until he screamed the words, his fists pounding the floor and cracking the hardwood planks.

"Wh-who?" she stammered, her palm touching his cheek.

She grunted and flinched from the influx of emotional anguish that created physical pain. Her chest constricted, crushing her lungs, and expelling the air out of them. Her heart seemed to swell, beating faster, aching as if it was trying to pound through her compressed rib cage because it had grown too big. Refusing to let him go, she constrained herself to hold him, to suffer with him, experiencing his sorrow as a bodily affliction.

Gradually, developing through a white spotted haze like a blinding blizzard, a mental picture took form. She could see Ginshi's face, paled by impending death. Seeing him through Kuki's eyes, she was able to get a glimpse of the lethal injury he had received during the battle. The sight of a huge chunk of Ginshi's side, half of his torso, missing came into horrifyingly clear focus.

"Oh, my god," she gasped, clutching at Kuki's back with her other hand to pull him closer.

Her palm pressed heavily to his face to draw in more of the memory and to draw out his misery. She continued to observe the gruesome scene through Kuki's memory. Ginshi's organs and muscles had started to reform. Thick bloody chords, slithering across the dirty floor under them, seeking each other in their attempt to reconnect and reform, to heal the hopelessly broken body. Although powerful and able to regenerate, ghouls were not immortal.

"Where are you? Hey, guys! Where are you?!" Ginishi was calling.

He was afraid. Although his team, his friends, his family, was there he could not see or hear them. Despite that fact Kuki held his hand, yelling his name, telling him he was right there. Ginshi was blind and deaf - and terrified while he believed he was dying alone. Finally, his eyes drifted closed. Then, he stopped sucking in the raspy, gurgling breaths. His hand went limp, but Kuki held on to it, bellowing at him to open his eyes.

Miyu peeled her hand from his tear dampened cheek to dispel the dreadful picture before she had to endure anymore. She held the man in her arms who sobbed like a child, allowing the sorrow flow freely out of him. He wailed loudly, his breaths in between each mournful cry coming in noisy, raspy inhales. His hands still soaked with Ginshi's blood, pulled at her snow white shirt, spreading offensive maroon splotches of dried blood across the sides.

Miyu pushed the overwrought man up onto his knees then struggled to stand so she could pull him to his feet and to a standing position. Without reducing him to the humiliation of a princess carry, she held him to her side to get him up the stairs and into her apartment. She took him straight to her bathroom, removing his bloodstained clothing.

Considering the circumstances, romance was not a thought in her head so it did not concern her when she stripped off her blood smeared shirt to throw it on the pile of blood covered clothing. She glanced at him while she turned on the water to fill the tub, waiting for it to come up to a suitable temperature. He sat on the floor, his body slumped against the side of the claw footed iron tub, staring straight ahead intently but seeing absolutely nothing.

Biting her lower lip, she refused to let her own tears fall. Tears she wanted to cry for him. He did not need her pity, and he had plenty of sorrow of his own. He needed her to be strong in this moment, to take care of him.

Hooking her arms under his, pressing his bare chest to hers, she lifted him into the bathtub. Keeping his ankles from banging against the edges of the metal basin was no easy task, but she made sure she managed it to keep from causing him anymore discomfort. Lowering him to a seated position, she set about wiping the droplets of blood from his face, rinsing away the macabre physical memory.

Kuki had received only minor, superficial injuries. Lots of scrapes and bruises. Or perhaps these were the remnants of more severe wounds and his body had healed. Either way, there was not much damage remaining.

Miyu scrubbed and cleaned, washing away the blood until the water turned pink. If only his mental wound could be washed away so easily.

"This is mortifying," he mumbled as she wrapped a towel around his naked body.

"You're suffering. You've been a through a terrible trauma," she said flatly, assisting him as he stepped out of the tub on his own.

"I'm weak. I couldn't save him. I should have been able to save him," he murmured, his eyes wide open and devoid of emotion or rational thought.

"He wasn't your responsibility," she snapped already having a good idea of who laid blame on him. "He was the leader. The captain of the team. It was his duty to lay down his life to save his subordinates. That's what leaders do."

"But Haise said - "

"That wasn't Haise," she growled, cutting off sentence. Shaking her head, she took him by the arm to lead him to the bed. "I don't want to talk about any of that right now. Unless you want to. If you need to talk to get it - "

"No!" he yelled, his eyes finally blinking as if had broken himself out of a trance. "No. I don't want to talk about it."

He glanced around as if he were seeing her apartment for the first time. He plopped down on the bed, looking around until his bleary eyes latched onto her face. The wheels of thought were turning once again behind his supremely dark and serious eyes. Then confusion no longer clouded his dense grey, nearly black irises.

"How did I get here?" he asked.

"My apartment?"

"Your bed."

"Shock will do that. Everything will be all right. I'll make you some coffee," she offered, heading to the kitchen.

"Why am I naked?" he inquired, burrowing under the patchwork quilt on her bed.

"Uhm, you were covered in blood. I needed to clean you off," she explained, distracting herself with making the coffee. "There's no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed."

"I'm not," he immediately countered like a defiant child.

 _That's not what you said earlier_. Speaking her words internally only, she reminded herself that he was in an extremely fragile emotional state despite his boundless pride.

Filling two plain heavy white mugs with the steaming black liquid, Miyu took them to her 'bedroom.' Handing one cup to Kuki, she sat hers down on the bedside table before sitting down on the bed next to him. She pretended to ignore his eyes roaming over her from head to toe. Too late she remembered she was dressed only in a fluffy pink towel.

"You were naked too?" he inquired.

"That's usually how one takes a bath, yes," she snidely remarked.

"I hate I was in altered state and missed it," he murmured into his coffee mug.

"I'm sure you'll get another chance to see it," she returned.

Taking a sip of the coffee enabled her to hide her amused smirk as he coughed violently to expel the coffee he had accidentally inhaled in response to her words. He was the one who had threatened to come back and make her his for god's sake. She doubted that entailed something as drastic and mainstream as a marriage proposal. How dare he try to act coy?

They drank their coffee in silence, savoring the delicious aroma of the comforting hot beverage and the tranquility of each others presence.

"You can stay as long as you want to...I mean, as long as you need to," she added, fumbling around for the correct words as not to seem forward.

However, she had stripped him naked and bathed him. Presently they were sitting in her bed together, wrapped in towels, drinking coffee. The bounds of propriety had been breached long ago. Probably as soon as he had tackled her in the downstairs hall.

"Kuki," she said, looking over at him. "If there's anything I can do to help..."

"Don't say anything else," he commanded her in a low voice, taking the mug out of her hands. He put it and his cup on the table on his side of the bed.

When he lay down flat on his back, Miyu took that as a cue he was ready to sleep. Wiggling under the covers, she took off the damp towel and dropped it onto the floor. Turning her back to him and rolling herself up in the sheet under the quilt, she prepared to go to sleep.

Then she felt the bed moving as he eased closer to her. His body lay on top of the sheet while hers was encapsulated by it, separating their bodies by a thin barrier of cotton. One of his arms slid under her neck, making his bicep her pillow as he fitted his body to hers, his front to her back. His other arm draped across her waist to hold her securely. He need not worry about her trying to escape his embrace.

"As much I want to make love you to you, now is not the time," he whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek. "I just want to hold you."

"That's fine by me. You remember our promise?"

"I'll never let you go." He pulled her tightly to him. "Never."

"Same here."


	15. The Scars that Bind Us

Kuki gradually rose to consciousness like a swimmer rising from the depths of the ocean. For the first time in a long time he had found peace in sleep. No haunting memories of his father and the lingering phantoms of mourning that pestered him continually. No nightmarish recollections plagued his dreams as his subconscious attempted to come to terms with the emotional and physical pain of his recently endured trauma. He dreaded waking up to face reality.

 _Where am I?,_ he wondered. Experiencing a momentary confusion brought on by deep sleep, he tried to remember. The grogginess left him feeling dizzy, bewildered, like he was coming out of a coma.

Keeping his eyes closed, Kuki concentrated on sensations and sounds around him. A comfortably firm mattress pressed against back. A soft cotton quilt securely ensconced his naked body. The droning hum of a window unit air conditioner created a pleasing static buzzing sound in his ears.

Another sound, a faint sigh caught his attention. Then he remembered. In a mad panic brought on by profound grief, he had raced to see Miyu. Getting to her had been the one thought in his muddled mind after Ginshi had died in front of him. The powerful need to be with her had overtaken him, sending him straight to her door. Needing her scared the hell out of him.

Kuki opened his eyes to see her. Extreme darkness blinded him. So he listened more intently to her breathing; the heavy, cadenced breaths of slumber. His breathing pattern synced with hers as he listened to her in the black void surrounding them. He reached out into the darkness, his fingers outstretched, searching for her.

She sounded nearby but his hand contacted nothing. Rolling onto his side, extending his reach, his fingers bumped a solid object. His fingertips slid across the satiny smooth cotton sheet covering her body separating her from him. His palms and fingers skimmed across her body attempting to discern exactly where he was touching her.

His hand cupped what he assumed to be her shoulder. His fingers drifted down her arm, her silky skin sliding under his fingertips. His hand covered hers, his fingers lacing through hers to grasp her hand.

"Kuki," Miyu whispered into the consuming lack of light.

The unexpected sound of her sleepy voice caused his heart to pause then beat faster. Her fingers squeezed his hand.

Such a simple, innocent touch simultaneously soothed him and made his belly quiver with excitement. He scooted closer to her, fitting his body to hers like he had when they had fallen asleep. Her body was so warm in his arms.

His lips pressed to her bare shoulder. Her cool skin heated under his mouth. The pleasant fresh pear smell of her wafted up to his nose. So wholesome. So sweet. Impulsively, his tongue darted out, tasting her skin. He found the flavor of her flesh disturbingly agreeable on his tongue. He licked her again for another taste, his tongue gliding over the curve between her shoulder to her neck.

"Mmmm," she moaned, her body writhing against his igniting a second physical hunger.

Kuki's tongue followed the path of the thick, ropy artery along her neck, savoring the sensation of her blood pulsing through it. His hand released hers, moving back up her arm to her shoulder before sliding across her chest. Growing bold, driven by carnal yearning, his fingers slipped under the sheet, pushing it down until his hand cupped her breast.

"Kuki," she gasped when her squeezed her breast that filled his palm quite nicely.

Pushing the sheet down further, he reveled in touching the silken flesh of her belly. His member throbbed and twitched, rubbing against her buttocks still covered by the eighth of an inch of fabric separating them. He wanted her.

His fingers skimmed over side. The skin felt different; smoother, softer yet there were several odd bumps and folds like something under it interrupting its perfection. An image of the scars he had seen in his dream of her filled his mind.

Kuki sat up, waving his hand around until he bumped the shade of the lamp on the beside table. Robbed of his sight by the blackness of the night, he groped around until he found the switch to turn it on. Blinded once again by the bright light chasing away the darkness, his eyes finally adjusted so he could see.

Miyu lay beside him, the sheet gathered around her waist. She did not scream in offense or rush to cover herself up as he stared at her. The massive scars marred her sides just as he seen them in his dream. The silvery pink flesh, although healed, appeared raw and delicate. Cords of overgrown fibrous tissue ran like large veins across the excessively smooth damaged skin.

"Oh, my god," he gasped.

Her eyes were on his face, observing his expression intently. He had no idea what kind of look he had on his face. He did not find the scars revolting. Astonishment that the scars he had dreamed were real paralyzed his tongue.

"A ghoul almost killed me by stabbing me in both sides with his kagune," she explained without him having to ask. "I swear I thought he was going to split me in half, meeting in the middle. He did serious internal damage. That's why I have these scars. My body prioritized healing my organs over my skin so it never healed properly."

He could tell she was purposely refraining from telling him the name of the ghoul who had done this to her. It was probably for the better. If he heard that man's name right now the rage might overtake him and prompt to run out the door to his death. No matter how much the truth pissed him off, he had no illusions that he was not strong enough to defeat Ken Kaneki.

"I can't hate him for it," she mumbled. "I got what I deserved."

Kuki stared at her silently, watching a smile full of sadness stretch her lips. Imagining what she could have done to deserve such a horrible wound was beyond his imagination. The despondent little grin on her face made his heart hurt. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make the sadness go away. His abdomen clenched, the muscles spasming until he felt nauseated.

"Do my scars disgust you?" she asked, her voice subdued.

"Of course not. We all have scars of some kind," he said, his voice raspy with emotion. His fingers shook as he extended them toward the disfigured skin. "Not all can be seen on the outside."

"The physical ones are easier to bear no matter how ugly they are," she murmured, inhaling when his fingertips skimmed over the sensitive flesh.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his eyes flickering to her face. She appeared to be in pain, her eyebrows drawn together, biting her lower lip as if to withhold a cry.

"No," she answered, resting her hand lightly over his as he dragged his fingers over the pink skin.

At first Kuki was afraid she intended to push his hand away. When she did not attempt to remove his hand from her body, his fingers skirted over her belly to the other marred side of her body. He stroked her skin softly until she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Every time you touch me, it's like electricity shooting through my body. Sometimes I get a feeling...this strong urge to..."

"Me too," he rejoined, leaning down to kiss her.

~...~

Miyu took her hand away from his, raising it to his face as he kissed her. She had meant to move his hand away from the scars. Although he had not been repulsed, she had grown uncomfortably self-conscious under his gentle, probing touch.

Her fingers slid over his cheek, his temple, under the straight thick black hair to the hair shaved down close to his head. The super short hair was velvety soft.

He possessed so many contrasts. The hard angles of his nose and chin were dissimilar to the smooth light brown skin covering them. His cold narrow eyes had taken on a warmth she had never seen before when he looked at her tonight. Emotion had seeped into his black, usually affectless eyes, softening them. She liked that look immensely.

Miyu sighed into his mouth when his hand cupped her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple until it became rigid. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, his lips briefly leaving hers before coming back. His fingers brushed over her skin with the lightest pressure, patiently stimulating her.

When she could no longer take anymore of his tentative, almost shy teasing, Miyu pushed him over on his back. She would never mistake him for the submissive type, but he was welcome to fight with her for the dominant position if he wished. She would not object. Straddling his hips, she grasped his stiff, pulsating member in her hand to guide him into her desperately wanting body.

There was no objection from Kuki as she lowered herself onto him. Instead, his hands went to her hips, encouraging her to move. She happily obliged, rocking her hips back and forth.

Miyu studied the man under her. His eyes were closed. His face relaxed and peaceful. His lips were slightly parted, but he was completely silent.

Determined to hear some noise out of him, she leaned forward thrusting her hips down forcefully, sinking him deeply inside of her. His face tensed, his eyebrows drawing together and his jawline tightening. He caught his lower lip under his top teeth, stifling the moan into a low, guttural groan.

Disappointed but not undaunted, she raised her hips until only the tip of him remained inside of her before powerfully impelling herself on him again. This time his eyes flew open, his fingers dug into her hips until his fingernails scratched her skin, and he opened his mouth wide to issue a loud moan that sounded like a howl of pleasure.

Mission accomplished, she settled into using short thrusts, grinding her pelvic bones into his. Although his bursts of sound to relay his delight in her body were brief and muted, she found the noises to be extremely provocative. Drawing a verbal response from the quiet, excessively restrained man had been far more sensually exciting than she had imagined.

At the urging of his strong hands gripping her hips, moving her as he raised his body upward into her, they reached an exhausting, gratifying end.

Miyu lowered her body down onto his, relishing the warmth of his embrace when his arms enclosed her body.

"Is it difficult? Taking the pain of others on yourself, bearing it for them?" he asked, his chest vibrating under hers as he spoke.

"Why would you ask me that?" she questioned him, sitting up so she could see his face.

"Because I know that's what you did for me," Kuki said, tracing the side of her face and her jaw with his forefinger. "I suppose that's why you were the only thing I could think of when I was hurting."

Miyu saw the hint of smile at the corners of his lips before they slowly lifted into a grin exhibiting both sorrow and pity. She did not want his pity, however, his feeling sorry for her seemed to come more from a place of wanting to understand her burden caused by siphoning the emotions of others but not being able to.

He appeared to be sad for her in a strained attempt to empathize but only attaining sympathy. Yet his willingness to try to comprehend what it was like for her to experience heart rending emotions for someone else meant more to her than he would ever know.

"For so many years, I've been so wrapped up in my own pain I couldn't see anyone else's," he murmured, his eyes holding hers. "Thank you for lightening my burden. I'm sorry I've made yours heavier."

"You don't have to apologize. It's what you do for someone you - " She stopped herself short of uttering the four letter L word. "For someone you care about."

"I care deeply for you as well," he declared, gracing her with a genuine smile of happiness.

Close enough to 'I love you' for now. Divulging their emotions did not come easy to either one of them. As long as they were both content with the present state of their relationship, there was no need to press forward into uncomfortable emotional territory and risk ruining things between them.


	16. Entwined Souls

Miyu and Kuki sat at the small kitchen table in her apartment eating breakfast. Well, they were supposed to be eating the simple meal of rolled omelet and salad she had prepared. Instead they both poked at the food without taking a bite, neither having an appetite. Between the both of them, they had finished off a pot of coffee.

Taking comfort in the tranquil quiet and each other's presence, no words passed between them. At the moment, there was nothing to say.

Both of them had received a text message from Arima informing them there would be a small, very personal ceremony for Ginshi Shirazu at the cemetery. The body had already been cremated and buried without any formalities such as a wake.

Unfortunately, Ginshi had no family except for a sister lying bed ridden at the infirmary at CCG headquarters. He did, however, have a family comprised of his fellow squad members. Miyu could be called a family friend, having ties to most of the squad including Ginshi so she had been invited as well.

"We should get dressed. We are expected to be there soon," Kuki announced, his voice muted and devoid of emotion.

But he felt everything instead of nothing. Miyu could feel the powerful emotions roiling inside of him, churning like a storm. Rage, sorrow, hate, love, despair, hope...the plethora of feelings left her tired and anxious because she experienced them with him.

Inadvertently, her soul had become enmeshed with his. More than their bodies had joined. She had become hopelessly entangled with him on every level. She did not know how it happened so easily, but he had become part of her. She should have known this was coming. Since the beginning, she had felt an inexplicable connection to him.

 _When you find_ the one, _you'll know,_ her father's childish romantic sentiment echoed in her head.

But how could he be the one? She doubted her father would take too kindly to having a half ghoul son-in-law.

 _Listen to me_ , she thought to herself, finishing off her now cold cup of coffee. _I'm being a absurd idiot like my father. He would be proud of that at least._

"Miyu?" Kuki called to her, his fingers touching the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry. I'll go get ready," she said, standing up from the table.

Her body felt heavy, her fingers clumsy, as she pulled on the plain black dress she had worn to Arima's to meet Haise Sasaki. Maybe they should be having two funerals. After tying the ribbons to her shoes, she walked toward the door of the apartment.

"Where are you going?" Urie inquired, only half dressed in his uniform she had washed and ironed for him.

"I'm going downstairs to the cafe. I'll be back soon," she assured him.

"I'll meet you down there. I'll call a cab to drive us to the cemetery," he said.

"All right," she agreed.

Although her footsteps made only a light clicking sound on the stairs, Miyu's feet seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. Every step was a struggle. She planned on closing the cafe for a yet undetermined length of time. Circumstances in her life had changed, and she needed time to adjust. She felt she could not properly take care of her customers while being preoccupied with her own personal issues.

Miyu wanted to go home. A visit home would be required soon. She needed to see her father, to talk to him. Also, a cleansing ceremony should be performed before the emotional load became overwhelming. The weight was mounting, becoming almost too much, but she would have to bear it.

For this reason, she had avoided serious relationships. She knew better. Yet somehow she had allowed herself to become entwined with people who led her to her past and a whole lot of intense feelings she had not anticipated.

Getting in too deep emotionally with others whether the relationship be friendship or romance always led to trouble for her. She could not help herself from venturing into friendship when she met the sweet Tooru Mutsuki and sincere Ginshi Shirazu. They had frequented her cafe too many times, talked to her about too many personal matters, for her to not get to know them more deeply than most of her regulars. Her relationship with these two were different in that they created a link to her past, sating her curiosity about her old partner Kishou Arima and her pet science project gone awry, Ken Kaneki.

Miyu had been like a stupid kid playing with matches. She had burned her fingers becoming friends with the two members of the Quinx Squad. Then, she had coincidentally started an inferno when she set her sights on Kuki Urie. What the hell was she thinking? Play with fire and one is bound to get burned. She was on fire.

Miyu carefully crafted a sign on a plain piece of white paper. Writing big, unadorned letters using a black marker, she left a note for her customers. _Closed until further notice. I am truly sorry for the inconvenience. Please visit cafe :re. Thank you. Manager Miyu Nakashima._

Miyu had heard about cafe :re listening to some of her customers. They liked to compare the two cafes which she did not mind. Business is business and competition is the name of the game. Since she was no longer a player, why not send her patrons to the other cafe? Perhaps it would bring them back along with more when she reopened.

Miyu inhaled laboriously, her breath shaking as she taped the sign to the glass panes of the door. If she reopened...

"Are you ready?" Kuki asked her, appearing behind her as if he had materialized from thin air.

Miyu jumped. She really was not paying attention at all today. Her mind continually drifted elsewhere.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, his eyebrows drawing together questioningly. "Why are you - "

"It's just necessary," she quickly responded, cutting of his query. "I have more pressing matters to attend to at this time."

"Okay," he returned, without asking further questions.

Miyu smiled to express her gratitude. She appreciated him taking the hint that she had not come to this decision easily, and it caused her great sadness. After all, she was closing her livelihood. Her source of happiness as well.

The brakes of the cab squealed as it pulled to a stop at the curb.

"Let's go," he said, extending his black gloved hand to her.

Miyu took his hand, soothed by his strong fingers grasping hers. _Don't let go. I need you._

~..'..~

Miyu and Urie arrived at the cemetery last. They walked along the path, hand in hand, to the grave. Arima, Mutsuki, and Yonebayashi stood at the end of the minuscule burial plot covered with fresh dirt. Kaneki stood off to the side, separated from them.

Miyu stared at his dark hair. All of the white was gone. When she came close, she could see his eyes were graphite gray, almost black. Ken Kaneki had returned in full form, erasing all traces of Haise Sasaki. At least the outside now matched the inside. She had abhorred Haise Sasaki only because he was nothing more than a facade, an innocent deception hiding the potential evil underneath.

The whole damn situation with Kaneki still depressed her. Ken was not inherently bad or evil, he had been turned that way because of the abuses he had suffered. She had been one of those abusers. She gnawed on her lower lip nervously.

When Kaneki's dark eyes contacted hers, he made his disapproval of her presence clear. Too late she realized she was actually an outsider with only a tenuous connection to them. She had no right to be here intruding upon their mourning. Bowing deeply, she apologized.

"I am so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you for coming," Arima said without looking at her.

Yonebayashi whimpered, and Mutsuki took the hand of the childlike girl who was probably an older teenager, perhaps eighteen or nineteen. Mutsuki glanced at Miyu offering an apologetic smile for the cold reception. Kaneki merely nodded to acknowledge her apology.

"I'm going to stand over there," Miyu told Urie, squeezing his hand before reluctantly letting it go.

"But - "

"No," she said, interrupting before he could argue. "It should just be the five of you here. You knew him the best. You are his family. I understand. It's okay."

Miyu trudged off to stand under a tree far enough away she could not hear them speaking to each other. Her eyes scanned the cemetery to keep from rudely staring at the small group of mourners.

Most of the grave markers were plain obelisks bearing the family surname of those buried there. A few were bigger, more ornate headstones, most likely belonging to bigger, richer families who had many generations buried here. A small stone angel sat on one of the plots covered with tender young grass. A child? She gulped back her tears and looked away.

A presence generating burning heat and hostility heated her back, raising the hairs all over her body. Fear, frigid and forceful, spilled over her body like ice water. Without turning to face him, she knew Kaneki stood behind her. Keeping her back to him, she forced herself to remain calm, taking slow, deep breaths and concentrating on eradicating the tremor from her body. Her distracted state had allowed him to sneak up on her far too easily.

"What are you doing here?" Ken demanded, his voice low and measured as if restraining himself.

"I-I'm a-a fr-friend," she stuttered, rolling her eyes. Dammit! Her fear ran rampant, and she started to shake.

"You're no friend of mine," he said, placing his hand on the back of her neck. His fingers almost enclosed her neck.

"I'm not here for you," she managed to say without the stutter.

"Are you here for Ginshi?" he asked. His fingers compressed her neck ever so slightly. "Or for Urie?"

"Both," she replied. "Ginshi was my friend. Urie is - "

Miyu gasped when he stepped closer to her. The heat radiating from his body became more intense, heating her cold, shivering body.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he assured her, his breath tickling her cheek.

Miyu wrenched herself out of his grip when he sniffed her deeply. She spun around to face him. There was a smug, knowing grin on his face.

"His smell is all over you. Have you bonded to him?"

"That's none of your business."

"I remember your smell. So delicious," he remarked licking his lips. "Has he taken a taste yet?"

"Don't be disgusting," she snapped.

"I don't mean like that. Who has the dirty mind here?" he teased. "He has the hunger for flesh. I can see it in his eyes. I know that hunger. Be careful."

"So you're concerned for my safety?" she questioned him, doubtful of his sincerity.

"Yes. For some reason I still love you...like a mother," he added because he knew the reference annoyed her.

"Stop it!" she snapped viciously. "I'm not much older than you."

"Oh, but you are," he insisted, the weird grin turning downward into a deep frown. "You have an old soul. Your soul has been around for a very long time, possibly a relic from another life. We both know you're not completely human. Cerberus."

"Don't call me that," she hissed, backing away from him.

"Does Urie know? Has he seen the real you? How long do you think you can keep that face hidden from him?"

With each step he took toward her, she took one back to keep the distance between them.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Miyu questioned him, fighting back her tears.

"It's disappointing really. Seeing you in this present pitiful state makes me sad," he said in his deliberate way of speaking, carefully choosing each word for the most painful impact. "When did you become so weak...so fearful?" His eyes bore into her straight down to her core, chilling her to the bone. "What happened to the beast I knew? The merciless ghoul killer. The demon dog of the CCG. Why have you lost your teeth?"

"That's not me. I'm not that...that creature...not anymore," she insisted. "Urie knows enough about me. I told him what I am."

"But not all of it." He stared at her, capturing her wildly darting eyes. "Take it from me, you can't hide who or what you really are forever. I once hated the ghoul I had become, but I've learned to embrace it, make the best of it. I am what I am after all."

"A cold blooded killer?"

His smile returned; a cold, ferocious grin. "Most often we hate in others what we recognize in them as part of ourselves."

"How deeply philosophical," she retorted with blatant sarcasm.

"Hmph," he snorted derisively, the mean smile widening. "More bluntly stated, it takes one to know one."

"I'm not that person anymore!" she cried, covering her ears as if to block out his words.

"Oh, my dear, you were hardly a person in that form," he corrected her. "I still have the scar on my neck where you bit me." He unbuttoned the collar of his white shirt. "Want to see?"

"Shut up!" she yelled, pressing her hands over her ears more tightly and closing her eyes.

"What's going on here?" Urie asked, putting his arm around Miyu's waist.

Miyu turned into him, hiding her face in the soft leather folds of his jacket over his chest.

"Kaneki? What were you doing?" Urie rubbed her back to soothe her while waiting for an answer. "What did you say?"

"We were talking. Reminiscing. I guess that memory wasn't such a good one."

"Stay away from her. I know you two have a painful past together, but - "

"You have no idea about our past together," Kaneki stated in an ominously calm manner.

"You're right. And I don't want to know. Neither one of you can do anything about the past. So let it be," Urie said, a warning tone in his voice.

The honk of a car acted as an inhibitor, halting the escalation of the conversation and dispelling the tension that had become suffocating.

"Our car is here," Urie proclaimed.

The conversation was officially over, and they were leaving. Miyu was thankful for his bracing arm around her waist as he led her to the yellow taxi.

"If you want to know everything, I'll tell you," she offered. "It's only fair you should know everything. Then you can make a decision of whether you want to be with me or not."

"I don't want to know. I meant what I said, the past is the past. You can't change it so what does it matter?" He turned her to face him, pressing his palm to her cheek.

Miyu studied his eyes that looked not just at her but into her. What she saw there, eased her agitated mind and body. She saw acceptance and most shockingly, love. There was also a determination in his eyes, a resolve to love her no matter what.

"We can't let our pasts destroy our future," he said, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"I hope you don't change your mind."

"I won't. Let's go home."

Home? According to an old adage, home is where the heart is meaning a home can be made anywhere love abides. Home indicated a place where one belonged, where love lives and joy can be found. She wanted a home with him more than anything in this world.


	17. Three Little Words

The mouth watering scent of coffee awakened Urie from his delightfully dreamless sleep. Inhaling deeply, he pulled the glorious aroma into his nose. A picture of the beautiful woman with the wavy black hair and stunning hazel eyes formed in his mind.

The memory of making love to her made his entire body tingle. He had taken her two, three, four times. Once, while they drawing close to a simultaneous climax, she had opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. He had nearly lost it when she looked at him, looked through him, as if her soul was touching his. The lovely earthy colors of her irises, the dirt brown and grass green had fled, leaving behind the gorgeous glowing gold - the evidence of her ethereal power that amazed him.

Kuki sighed again, laying his arm across his eyes although there was no light to shut out. Darkness filled the room. Another day had passed. How many days had it been? He did not know nor did he care. With her, time faded away and so did his pain. The soul devastating sadness and anger he had carried with him for years no longer followed him into his nightmares or tortured him every waking moment.

Miyu Nakashima. Miyu Urie. He chortled, amused by his silly thoughts. He was playing a ridiculous child's game trying out his beloved's name with his surname. But he liked the sound of it. His stomach clenched as if captured by an invisible fist. He wanted her. He needed her. Did she feel the same?

Kuki Urie got out of the bed to search for the object of his affection, the reason for his juvenile but entertaining musings. Pulling on her gray robe, her aroma filled his nose. Crisp, fresh, clean. He liked her scent immensely, taking as much comfort in her smell as he did in her touch. The memory of her cool, smooth fingers stroking his face, his neck, his chest, his belly, and lower sent a delectable thrill up his spine.

"Huh?" he mumbled to himself when he stepped into an empty kitchen. He followed his nose to the source of the smell of coffee and pears, finding himself downstairs in her deserted cafe.

The entire room lay cloaked in darkness save one small lamp sitting on the bar emitting a muted, inviting glow under a pink lampshade. He could see her sitting on one of the bar stools, writing something on a piece of paper. She sighed; a soft sound relaying the heaviness and dejection in her heart.

Kuki stood in mesmerized silence, simply observing her. She twisted a lengthy lock of hair around her forefinger. Winding it around and around, slowly, before letting it go to fall into an elongated spiral before seizing another swath of hair to do the same. She chewed her full, pink lower lip; the luscious lips he liked to kiss. Her coal black hair fell softly against her snow white cheek.

His fingers twitched because of his strong desire to touch her yet he stood still, studying her more closely. Her delicate fingers loosely held the pen, tapping it on the piece of paper. She sat slightly stooped, her body folding into itself as of if to protect her from something.

Carrying the weight of others emotional burdens must be difficult for her. But she did it anyway, risking her own sanity and emotional well being. She had to feel the same way about him to do that for him.

Kuki Urie audibly gasped when the mysterious invisible fist tightened around his heart. In that moment, he realized he loved her.

On soundless feet, he moved closer to her. The thin strapped baby pink tank top she wore bared most of her upper body. Not too long ago, he had thought her indecent, impertinent due her style of dress. However, now he liked it because her small shirts revealed more of her beautiful skin to touch.

His fingers trembled as he reached for her. When his fingertips contacted her bare shoulder, she gasped and jumped, nearly falling off the stool. He rushed forward, taking her into his arms to keep her from falling. That was as good a reason as any as if he needed an excuse to hold her.

Kuki buried his nose in her soft hair, inhaling deeply. She had become his favorite scent. Her smell brought him comfort, easing his mind and body. His abdominal muscles relaxed, fluttering when she leaned against him, sighing.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he murmured.

"I was just thinking too much," Miyu returned, laying her hand over his that grasped her upper arm. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," he said, brushing his lips across her silky cheek.

"I think...I feel...Would you..." She hesitated, obviously struggling for words. He could hear her audibly gulp as if attempting to swallow her emotions.

 _No, don't. Tell me what you're feeling_ , he begged silently, squeezing her gently as if encouraging her to go on.

"Would you be offended if I told you I love you?" She asked, her body stiffening with apprehension.

"No," he whispered in her ear. He smiled when her hand grasped his. "Because...I love you too."


	18. Home

Kuki walked purposefully down the street, gripping the single red rose tightly in his fist. He was going to her, to the woman he loved, to apartment where he now lived. He was going home.

Home. That word had lost its meaning so many years ago when his father died and his world began to change - and not for the better. He had almost found another home in the house he had shared with his squad mates. However, all of the chicks had fled the nest following the death of Shirazu and subsequent "death" of Haise Sasaki and unexpected return of Ken Kaneki.

Thankfully, she had come into his life at the right time. Kuki Urie found safe harbor in the arms of Miyu Nakashima. She had taken him into her heart and her house, giving him a home. With her he felt safe and secure. At last he had found the shelter he needed to be able to love again.

A smile tugged at the corners of his stubborn mouth. The surge of happiness inside of him when thinking about her made him want to smile. Unfortunately, negative thoughts plagued him, threatening to steal away that happiness.

 _How long do you think it will last? How long before she breaks your heart? Everyone disappoints you and hurts you. They always do. Idiot!,_ his doubts and insecurities taunted him. His worst fears played in his head, giving him enough information to make his heart waver uncertainly before he could push the thoughts away.

 _Who would she betray him with? Would it be Arima or Kaneki?,_ he sometimes pondered. Despite her making it quite clear, not only to him but both of them as well, she wanted nothing to do with either of them and that their past together entailed nothing romantic, yet that damned, hateful little voice kept stirring up doubt and would not leave him alone.

Worse yet, would she begin to fear the monster inside of him, the monster he could feel himself changing into little by little? His stomach contracted painfully from another irrational cause for dismay and paranoia plaguing his mind. She had divulged small tidbits of her past revealing her own monstrous ways, but she was a terrifying creature of a different caliber. At least from what he knew about her. Sometimes he still wondered if there were far more terrifying revelations about her to come.

But he did not care. Kuki Urie had already made up his mind to love her. Besides, she seemed to understand him in a way no one ever had - and most likely never could. That in itself was a rare thing indeed and nearly impossible to find. All of his silly, stupid doubts would have to move aside.

Kuki used his key to unlock the back door leading to her apartment above the recently abandoned coffee shop. He sighed sadly looking into the darkened space. Hopefully, one day soon she would be better and would reopen the shop. Running the cafe had made her happy.

Opening the door to their apartment, the scent of roasted chicken assaulted his olfactory receptors. His mouth watered in anticipation. She cooked dinner for him almost every night. It was going to be a good night because he genuinely looked forward to eating her food. Lately, he had more and more 'good' times where food appealed to him more than the idea of eating human flesh. Food tasted delicious again. Yet another reason he liked coming home to her.

Kuki saw her sitting in her huge chair, reading a book, a blanket covering her lap, and cup of tea on the small table beside her. The curtains fluttered in the cool breeze blowing into the apartment. Autumn was coming, and she welcomed the respite from the summer heat by opening the windows each evening. She was the picture of contentment sipping her steaming tea.

Miyu looked up from her book, smiling at him. Small spots of pink tinted the apples of her cheeks. He hoped the blush stemmed from her being happy to see him instead of another fever. Recently, she had become fatigued, spending most of her hours in bed. Bouts of fever had come and gone with no real reason. She refused to go to the doctor. He worried about her.

"Hi," he said, suddenly feeling shy and awkward when her golden irises met his. Her eyes stayed that color most of the time as if she had grown too weak to hide their natural color. Or perhaps she no longer felt the need to hide that part of her from him anymore. He could not be sure.

"Welcome home," she returned, rising to greet him.

Kuki accepted her embrace, taking her into his arms to squeeze her tightly. He kissed her neck, delighted when she shivered in response to his gentle touch.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, resting his hands on her hips when she leaned back from him.

"Better," she replied, her smile appearing forced. Her fingers deftly unbuttoned his jacket. "No fever today."

"That's good. I brought you something," he announced, raising the half opened, blood red rose so she could see it.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she returned, taking the rose from him to bury her nose in it.

Kuki removed his jacket and hung it on one of the hooks beside the door. He watched her as she scuttled to the kitchen to get something to put the flower in.

Not having any vases, she improvised with a parfait glass. After filling the tall, conical glass with water, she stuck the rose in it and put it on the table already set with plates and silverware.

Kuki allowed the smile to take hold of his lips this time. She paid attention to the small details, the things that most people would overlook finding them meaningless. She always made him feel special.

His eyes drifted from her head down to her toes. She had pulled her hair up into a loose bun, a few spiral curls framing her face and laying against the back of her neck; a half-hearted attempt at a hairstyle with lovely results. Dressed sloppily and comfortably in a blue, black, and white plaid shirt with a complementary royal blue tank top underneath and black yoga pants, she was a gorgeous mess.

"What are you staring at?" she asked suddenly, breaking him out of his reverie. "Do I look that bad?"

"No. You look that good," he countered, moving toward her. He gathered her into his arms, kissing her lightly on the lips. "You're beautiful."

"You're crazy," she giggled, pressing her cheek against his chest. Her arms enclosed his waist, hugging him. "I received a letter from my father today."

"Oh?" He had no idea what that meant. Was it something good or bad? She had been writing a letter to her father the night they had confessed their feelings to each other. But that was weeks ago and nothing else had been said about it.

"I'm going home, Kuki," she said.

There was that word again. Home. Where did she call home? He had stupidly believed her one and only home was here with him.

"So what does that mean?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"I need to go home. I'm sick," she admitted without elaborating.

 _Details, woman! I need details!,_ he wanted to yell at her.

"I have to go home for a cleansing ceremony. I've been inundated with too many bad feelings and bad memories...too many negative things. I wish...I wish I could explain better but..."

"I won't lie and say I understand completely, but I think I get the gist of it," he said, sincerely trying to grasp the meaning of it all. All the negativity she had absorbed from Kaneki, from Arima - from him - was affecting her physically making her suffer bodily ailments. "Can I come with you?"

"Are you sure you want to do that? The ritual is really quite extensive and difficult. Besides, the colony doesn't take well to outsiders. And my father - "

"Well, shouldn't I meet him anyway? Or are you not sure I'm the one you want to be with?"

Miyu stepped back from him, gazing at his face. He could not discern if she was angry or hurt by her mostly blank expression. Probably both.

"You'll learn more about me. Perhaps some things you don't want to know," she warned him.

"What are you so afraid of? What secret are you hiding that you don't want me to know? You know everything about me," he argued.

"Do I? Do I really?" she challenged him petulantly.

"Arima knew everything about you. All of the bad and the good. And he loved you anyway. Do you think I can't love you more than he can?"

"You're right. He knew all of the bad," she confirmed. "The bad part of me is _why_ he loved me. He adored the monster inside because it resonated with the one in him. You got to know the human side of me first. I don't want you to hate me for what I really am, for the part of me I can't change."

"I see. Do you really think I'm that shallow? Besides, you already knew what I am. You knew before you even talked to me that I was part ghoul. It's not fair."

"Nothing about love is ever fair," she agreed, exhaling loudly. "I'm going to be gone a long time," she informed him, switching tactics when listing her reasons why he should not go with her. "Months perhaps. A bit of an exile is required. I have to be cut off from strong emotional influences."

"Including me?"

"Yes."

"Well, that will give me plenty of time to get to know your father." Although not particularly thrilled about the idea of being left alone with her father for weeks, possibly months, he would do it for her sake. If he could get on her old man's good side, that could unlock a wealth of knowledge about her past, particularly her childhood.

"How will you take that much time off work?"

Damn. This woman could argue like a defense lawyer.

"I'll take a leave of absence."

"Will they allow it?"

"I don't know. Things are kind of a damn mess right now at headquarters."

"Then it's probably not a good time to take a lengthy amount of time off."

"I want to be with you. To help you through this. To know you better. I want to meet your father and tell him I want to be the man in his daughter's life who will love her and take care of her. I want to do things the proper way," he said, his voice rising with the intensity of his emotions. He might even ask her father for permission to marry her, but he did not want to tell her that. The woman was already skittish and ready to bolt. "Why are you trying so damn hard to talk me out of this?"

"Because I'm scared!" she shouted.

"You think I'm not?" he scoffed, grabbing her by the arms. His eyes locked with hers, holding them to convey his feelings so she would not misunderstand his words or his intentions. "The only time I've been more unsure and afraid was when I was told my father was dead. I closed myself off from everyone. I never wanted to feel anything for anyone again. But you..." He shook her lightly when her eyes drifted from his to regain her full attention. "But you broke through that wall. You made me want to try again. And damn you, I fell in love with you. Don't shut me out."

"Th-that's n-not my my in-intention," she stuttered, her lower lip trembling.

Kuki stared at her, his heart flooding with a tender emotion that brought tears to his eyes. God, he loved her. He was a fool for her. Her cute little stutter when she got nervous melted his heart. Her brilliant yellow eyes were shiny with unshed tears making them glow. She sucked in her quivering lower lip to hold it steady with her teeth. Childishly defiant while in a grown woman's body. She must have looked like this when she was a little kid and her father admonished her for one reason or another.

"You know what," he murmured, his voice low, shaking with powerful emotion. "You are the most annoyingly stubborn person I've ever met."

"I could say the same about you," she retorted, her lip poking out in a pout.

"You have said the same about me," he reminded her. "So many times, especially in the beginning, I wanted to hate you. I think that's why I tried to convince myself something had gone on between you and Arima or even Kaneki. I hate to admit it, but those thoughts still run through my head. You terrify me with how you make me want to love you," he said, easing his grip on her arms.

"I know how you feel," she told him, reaching up to cup his jaw with her hand.

She smiled at him, stroking his cheek with her thumb; a comforting gesture that dispelled the aggravation that had built inside of them during their fight. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him tenderly on the forehead, then the lips.

"Sometimes I'm not sure if it helps or hurts that both of us are struggling with the same fears and insecurities about love," he murmured, placing his chin on the top of his head when she fitted herself into his arms.

"Yeah, me too."

The timer for chicken in the oven dinged, interrupting their quiet moment.

"Dinner's ready," she proclaimed unnecessarily, attempting to slide out of his embrace.

"Hey," he said, encircling her shoulders more securely to keep her from getting away. "We can do this."

"It's not going to be easy," she sighed wearily.

"No one ever said love is easy." Using a play of her owns words against her, he parried successfully in their ongoing word war.

"Oh, good one. That sounds like something I would say," she laughed, playfully thumping him on the chest.

Kuki was as tired of arguing as she was. At least he had worn her down enough to make her stop. He was going with her no matter what even if he had to follow her. A little on the stalkerish side, he would admit, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The thought of losing her frightened him more than anything he might find out about her.

"I know. That's why I said it. You better get dinner out of the oven." He reluctantly removed his arms from around her body.

Miyu took the dish out of the oven, bringing it to the table to put on the waiting metal trivets. Leaning over, she kissed Kuki on the lips.

"Welcome home, my love," she said.

Kuki could tell that was her way to reset the evening, to begin again and get past their emotionally volatile argument. He placed his hand over hers that lay on his shoulder.

"There's no place I'd rather be."


	19. The Deal

Gentle fingers stroking her forehead and cheek awakened her. Keeping her eyes closed, Miyu sighed while snuggling deeper into the soft down comforter surrounding her like a cocoon.

"Comfy?" asked a low, breathy voice definitely not belonging to her boyfriend.

 _Shit!,_ Miyu screamed inside her head, unable to utter a sound. She grunted and squeezed her eyes shut tighter, pretending to be unfazed by the shock of hearing that voice. That voice belonged to Ken Kaneki. How the fuck did he get into the apartment?

"What are you doing here, Ken?" she inquired. Her runaway heart pounded so loudly in her ears she hoped she would be able to hear his answer.

"Urie told me you have been ill. I wanted to come by and see you. I was worried," he said, continuing to stroke her forehead with his fingertips. "Your fever has gone down."

"How long have you been here?" She grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away having grown exceedingly uncomfortable being petted by the man.

"Long enough to hear you cry out for Urie in your sleep several times," he replied, twisting free of her grip.

Her eyes opened wide to give him a withering glare.

"Oh," he gasped genuinely surprised. "I haven't seen those beautiful yellow eyes of yours in a long time. The color always reminded me of a goldenrod."

He smiled at her, his face aglow in the muted orange afternoon light illuminating the room. He was wearing glasses. Those are new. Such an interesting part of his transformation. The white haired Ken Kaneki she knew never wore glasses.

"A weed? That's flattering," she muttered irritably, pushing herself up to a sitting position.

"Yes, a weed. You're like a weed. Wild, unpredictable, growing wherever you please, however you please. Unwanted and despised by some, but lovely as a flower to others," he explained quite poetically, allowing her to see a bit of the person he used to be before...before hell invaded his life.

"Does Urie know you're here?" she asked.

"What do you think?" he retorted.

Of course not.

"What are you doing here?" she repeated, tucking the puffy white comforter around her body. She had left the windows open before lying down for a nap, and the air had cooled considerably.

"I brought you something," he said, handing her a white cardboard bowl.

Miyu lifted the bowl close to her nose, sniffing at the tiny hole in the plastic lid. She smelled cinnamon and nutmeg.

"Butternut squash soup. Your favorite in autumn," he said, handing her a spoon from the small brown paper bag in his hand.

"I can't believe you remembered that," she murmured, lifting off the lid to reveal the creamy orange soup. Taking the spoon, the redirected the conversation again. "This is more than a mere social visit or a wellness check on my behalf. What do you want Ken?"

"Urie has made a rather inconvenient request," he answered, his smile fading. "But I understand why. He's worried about you and wants to be with you when you return home to recover."

"I asked him not to. I told him he would never get the time off," she rejoined offhandedly, blowing on the spoonful of steaming soup. Apparently he got it from Ms. Tokoyama's place down the block for it to still be this hot.

"I'll give it to him," Kaneki said, quickly adding, "but..."

Her entire body tensed. She almost choked in her soup. _But what?_

"There's something I want from you in return."

"From me?" she mumbled around the spoon in her mouth. Her eyes raised to meet his dull gray graphite irises.

"I want you to be a member of my team."

"I told Arima no...several times. What makes you think I'm going to tell you yes?"

"Because I'll make you Urie's partner. I'm promoting him to captain of my team. He will need someone to watch his back. I want that person to be you."

Miyu opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his finger to politely quiet her.

"I'll allow you to work on a consultant basis. Work on the cases you want, refuse the ones you don't. You'll be there to protect your boyfriend."

That deal sounded too good to be true. How dare he try to blackmail her into coming back to the CCG? Did he really think she would perform her job well being forced to do it? What game was he playing?

"Kuki has gotten along fine without me. He's quite strong and powerful in his own right. It offends me that you would deem him weak and in need of my protection," she growled, putting the lid back on the soup and setting it on the bedside table. She had lost her appetite.

"You should eat. You need to regain your strength," he said, reaching for the food.

"Kaneki, stop," she snapped at him. "Don't try to manipulate me. It pisses me off."

"Yes, well, I suppose you can't beat a master at her own game," he muttered, standing up from sitting on the bed. He walked away from her, going to stand in front of one of the windows.

Miyu folded her hands in her lap, keeping her mouth shut despite wanting to yell at him. She also wanted to push him out the door to get him the hell out of her apartment.

Kaneki pulled back the curtain, gazing outside as if he were expecting someone. Probably checking for Urie. His being there would be awkward for all them. Naturally, he would leave it to her to discuss their little arrangement.

An evil thought occurred to her. For convenience, she could push Kaneki out of the window. He would not be hurt. Like a cat, he would land on his feet. An onslaught of guilt brought her back to her senses.

Miyu inhaled deeply, mustering her patience. She had no choice but to hear him out. With the bullshit out of the way, they could finally get to the point of this annoying conversation and end it.

"I'll allow Urie the time off if you come back to work on my team," he stated bluntly.

"What if I say no?" she asked.

"We both know if I disapprove of his leave, he will go anyway. Then he will be in violation of his contract. He will be retrieved and returned directly to me," he answered simply, dropping the curtain to allow it to billow in the breeze.

Miyu gulped. "And what then?"

"He will be subjected to intensive retraining."

Intensive retraining: the fancy phrase for brainwashing.

"If intensive retraining fails, subject will be disposed of due to being deemed out of compliance and unfit for the Quinx program," she finished as if reading the words from the contract.

Miyu had read the contract years ago. Arima had acted with transparency, giving her full disclosure before she agreed to work with him. However, she did not have to sign the contract, only the members of the specialized squad. The CCG asked so much of those young men and women yet promised them nothing in return.

She studied the young man at the window. He had been the guinea pig for the intensive retraining. No one cared that the brainwashing did not work and caused more damage than it fixed. She respected Ken Kaneki for being truthful, despite being manipulative. As he had said, he had learned from a master but could not beat her at her own game.

"Do I really have a choice?" she asked.

"You do," he answered, coming back to sit on the bed.

Miyu inadvertently jumped when his knee touched her hip despite barely being able to feel it through the thick material covering her body. Her eyes reluctantly met his.

"We always have a choice. However, sometimes we have to take into account the consequences. We have to decide what we can live with." He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "And what we can live without. I know you can't see it now, but I'm doing this to protect the both of you."

"Yeah, sure. If you say so," she sighed in frustration, lowering her eyes from his.

"Oh, and don't tell Urie about the promotion. I'll leave that as a surprise for him when he comes back. We will have so many reasons to celebrate upon your return."

"Uh huh," she mumbled, pulling the comforter more securely around her to ward off the bone deep chill that seized her.

"Don't worry. It won't be as bad as you think. I believe you might even enjoy working on my team," he said, placing his hand on her cheek. "I'm not your enemy. I don't hate you."

"Well, isn't that comforting?" The words sounded more sarcastic than she had intended them to.

When he leaned toward her, she inhaled sharply. His lips pressed a kissed to her forehead.

"I've missed you, Mo-" He stopped himself before he called her by the nickname she hated. "I'll call you big sister. Is that okay?"

"Sure. Why not?" she scoffed, giving him a weak smile. "At least it's better than mother."

They both laughed lightly to allow the oppressive mood to lift.

Kaneki took her hand in his, squeezing it as if to infuse her with some of his strength. "Take care of yourself. Take care of Urie. Make a speedy recovery."

"Yes, sir," she returned as if accepting orders. Those were orders she would happily carry out to the best of her abilities.

* * *

~\\..'../~

"North Carolina?" Kuki asked, staring at his plane ticket. "The United States?"

The time for unexpected revelations had begun. She knew he would have questions and lots of them.

"Mmm, yes," Miyu responded, folding the purple cardigan to put it in her carry on bag. "Were you expecting Transylvania?"

Then she guffawed loud and hard. The part of the mountain range where the colony lived was actually located in a place called Transylvania County. She had never made that connection before. Also colony referred to a group of bats. Not a single member of the group could morph into a bat, another favorite belief of vampire mythology. However, they were not completely incapable of frightening transformations - herself included.

"What?" Kuki inquired, his narrow eyes becoming mere slits.

"Because vampires are supposed to be from Transylvania, you know."

"But I thought you were Japanese."

Miyu sighed not caring to elaborate any further on silly vampire lore purported by books and movies. Surely he had read at least one vampire novel at some point in his life. Hopefully not one of those horrid ones where vampires twinkle in the sun. She cringed.

But maybe he not read any of those kinds of books. Perhaps those kinds of stories did not appeal to him. Besides, he knew too much about real life monsters to be interested in fictional ones.

Rummaging through the box of cold weather clothes she had retrieved from the storage closet downstairs, she searched for the sweater her father had sent to her last Christmas.

"I am. My mother was Japanese. She met my Father here when he was traveling the world. He took her back to his home in the U.S. They lived there together for a while. When I turned five, she brought me back here. Against his wishes," she added, finding the chocolate brown cable knit pullover she had been searching for.

"How many times have you visited your father there?" He sat on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes studying her.

"Three times. I did not visit him for the first time until after my Mom died. I thought it only fair he learn about the passing of his wife in person."

"How is your relationship with your father?" he asked, unfazed by her statement.

He was acting awfully formal tonight reminding her of his stiff, no nonsense manner he used to stonewall her when they first met. So much time had passed since getting past his cold exterior she had actually forgotten that part of him existed.

His intense gaze made her apprehensive. He was like a human lie detector tonight, asking questions and seeing through her to make sure she was telling the truth. She wished he would stop staring at her that way, but she could also see a childlike curiosity in his piercing eyes.

"Our relationship isn't what you would call close, but it's not really strained or anything either," she said, stuffing the huge sweater into her already full suitcase.

Honestly, she was not sure how to describe their relationship. She could go without thinking about him for years then she would experience this sudden, intense bout of homesickness. She would go see him, and he would welcome her with open arms, as would the whole colony, as if no time had passed at all. The sense of closeness and kinship between them was weird but comforting - and completely inexplicable.

"Are you packed already?" she asked, struggling with the zipper on her overfilled suitcase.

"Yes," he answered succinctly, glancing down at the singular black suitcase at his feet.

"Did you pack clothes for cold weather?"

"Yes. I prepared accordingly. What are your people like?"

Miyu laughed at the odd and blunt wording of his question. He could not be deterred. Inquiring minds want to know. Her giggle died away. _Your people_. She guessed they were indeed set apart from others like a different race. More like a different species. They were not exactly human but not so far removed they were not considered human.

Her father always said they were humans, only evolved. They were stronger, faster, smarter - better than human. At first, she had thought her father was an elitist prick. But in a way, he was correct.

Although ghouls had their own special abilities that paralleled or possibly surpassed those of her kind. A ghoul's capacity for cruelty, especially in regards to self-preservation or furthering their own interests, was none like she had experienced before in her life.

 _"I know you can't see it now, but I'm doing this to protect the both of you."_ What did Kaneki mean by that? What, or who, did he feel the need to protect them from? He was now a squad leader. Kuki said things had been crazy at headquarters but...

"Miyu? Are you all right?" Kuki asked, laying his hand on her shoulder.

She jumped from the unexpected contact, snatching her out of her own head space. She had not yet told him about the deal struck with Kaneki. Her eyes met Kuki's questioning ones, and she forced herself to smile. She would not tell him tonight. Their plane would be taking off in three hours.

"I'm fine."

"Are my questions bothering you? I can stop," he offered, pulling her into his arms. He gave her a peck on the lips. "I can conduct my own physical inquiry to learn more about you."

"Mmmm," she groaned, putting her arms his neck. "I like that idea."


	20. The Long Road Home

After a sixteen hour flight, an hour long taxi ride, then another hour long bone jarring jaunt through the forest in a four wheel drive Jeep where they were let off to continue on foot, Kuki was beyond ready to arrive at their destination. Where the hell was this place? Did it even exist? He was growing doubtful.

The first hour in the forest, the colorful fall foliage had been intriguing. The bright yellows, dark oranges, flaming crimson, and intense purples of the leaves was captivating. Squirrels scurried across branches in search of nuts to add to their winter stores knocking off leaves that fluttered down to the ground. The occasional deer crossed their path, studying them with fearful inquisitiveness before moving on. After three hours, the colors were blinding despite the waning light of day and the sound of little animals skittering through the dry leaves into the ground cover was annoying.

Miyu had neglected to tell him exactly how long and arduous the journey would be. Although he would not have changed his mind to come, a heads up would have been appreciated. No wonder she had only returned here three times in her entire life. The sun would be setting soon. They had not come prepared to set up camp.

"How much longer?" Kuki asked, shifting her backpack that he had volunteered to carry for her.

Her stamina despite her weakened state astounded him. He continued to observe her for signs of exhaustion but so far she showed none, other being slightly paler than usual and breathing a little hard. However, considering they had been hiking for hours, he was breathing a little hard himself. He stretched his aching fingers that had been gripping the handle of his suitcase. Thankfully the wheels had not fallen off yet but might not last much longer. They had taken quite a beating from the uneven ground and small rocks they had bumped over.

"We should be getting close," Miyu said, consulting her map and rechecking her compass. Reception to their cell phones died upon arriving at their drop off point making GPS navigation impossible. Turning in circles she muttered, "I know we have to be close."

"Close to what?" a deep voice inquired.

A tall man with wide shoulders and dark brown skin the color of the bark on the pine tree he had been concealed behind appeared from his hiding place. Straight, glossy black hair flowed down his back in a low ponytail gathered at the nape of his neck. He was dressed in a dark green uniform, a shiny gold badge on his chest. He held a shot gun in his hands; ready to fire judging by the position of his hands but aimed straight up into the air presently.

Urie moved his body in front of Miyu, blocking her from the big man's sight. He could feel animosity drifting off of imposing individual in palpable waves.

"Everett?" she inquired, peeking around her boyfriend.

"Miyu," the magnificent tree of a man with a badge and gun returned, his face staying as impassive and stony as the face of the mountain rising to their left. "This is your chosen mate?"

"No, this is my boyfriend," she corrected. She stepped around him to face the other man. "Kuki, this is Everett Burrell. He is a park ranger. He's also the first line of defense protecting the colony. How have you been Everett?"

"Good. My wife is expecting our first child in a month," he said, his eyes hard black marbles in his head as he glared at her.

"That's amazing! Congratulations!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah," he grunted, his nostrils flaring as if her exuberance irritated him. "Thanks."

"Are you here to lead us in?" she asked.

"No," he answered curtly. He stuck his forefinger and little fingers in the corners of his mouth releasing an ear drum bursting whistle.

A pretty blond teenaged girl dressed in jeans, a gray hoodie, and red converse sneakers appeared from the shadows like a ghost taking form on the earthly plane. A boy just a few years older, around fifteen, with the same pale blond hair and brilliant ocean blue eyes jumped down from the close by tree on her left to land on his feet right in front of Miyu.

"Hi," he greeted them cheerily, sticking out his hand. "I'm Philip Garrison, and this is my sister, June Bug."

"My name is June," she corrected him, rolling her eyes. "You're Miyu, right?"

"I am," she confirmed, shaking the boy's hand then his sister's when she stepped forward.

She introduced Kuki to all three of them. The boy and girl greeted him politely, shaking his hand and welcoming him. Everett snorted like an angry bull in response to his introduction.

"Come on," Philip Garrison said, taking Miyu by the hand. "We need to hurry. Everyone is expecting you."

"Everyone?" Miyu questioned, giving her suitcase over to the boy.

"Come on," June Garrison said, grabbing Kuki's suitcase with one hand and his hand with the other.

"Wait," he protested, as the girl pulled him forward.

Their actions, their instant familiarity and overstepping physical boundaries explained a lot about why Miyu acted the way she did. Uncomfortable with the girl holding his hand, he tried to shake loose but couldn't. Her strength shocked him making him realize he had probably not experienced Miyu at her full strength yet.

Within minutes, they reached their destination. It was as if they had been transported to another place entirely. A wide path made of small rocks that appeared to have been gathered from a stream bed led into what looked like an upscale suburban housing subdivision located on the outskirts of any metropolitan American city. Somewhat befitting of their surroundings, the houses were built using whole logs, knot hole covered pine planks, or large cedar panels. Their massive size and modern style prevented them being mistaken as mere rustic cabins set in the woods. Also electric lights illuminated the interiors. There were no driveways or garages because there were no vehicles. Ancient, humongous evergreens spread their branches over the houses shielding them from view should a helicopter or airplane fly overhead. The world had no idea this place or these people existed.

"Where is everyone?" Miyu asked, glancing around.

"At your house, waiting for you of course," June replied as if the answer were obvious.

"Your father invited everyone over. He wanted to throw a big party for your return home," Philip expounded.

"Hey!" June yelled at her brother, slapping his chest. "You ruined the surprise!"

"Oh, for pete's sake, June Bug! She looks too tired for a surprise. It might give her a heart attack or something. Mom said she's sick."

"Shut up, stupid!" She punched him in the arm.

"Miyu hates surprises," Urie interjected.

"Dammit, Dad," she grumbled, her lips compressing into a thin white line.

They walked straight down the street to the house at the end. The two story log house backed up to the forest, nestled in between several large pines and junipers. A big porch extended the length of the front of the house and appeared to continue around the sides and most likely spanned the back. Laughter and music leaked from the inside and carried to their ears. This was definitely the place.

"Welcome home, Miyu," a chorus of voices exclaimed when she opened the door.

Kuki watched her face. Her exhaustion showed in the whiteness of her skin and the contrasting dark circles under her eyes. She currently looked like an archetypal vampire. Yet she smiled kindly, offering a friendly hello and handshake to everyone they passed.

Men gripped his hand and slapped him on the back. Women kissed him on the cheek or hugged him. He hated it. The physical contact, the pleasantries, the introductions, were wearing him out. He could only imagine how this was tiring Miyu. He was sick of meeting people whose names he would never remember. He did not care to remember their names. One person, one reason, had brought him here. Her recovery was the only thing he cared about. Although nice and heart warming, this welcome home party was draining her even further and angered him.

Kuki carefully examined the people around him without staring at a single person for too long. He had not expected them to look this way. Where were the pasty skinned, overly thin, black haired, black eyed demons? He cast a passing glance at Miyu. Unfortunately, she fit the popular media mold at the moment. Except for her eyes of course. However, the shiny gold had dulled to a sickly shade of mustard yellow.

Taking his eyes from her wan face, he went back to observing the faces around him. Their skin colors differed as greatly as their hair colors and eye colors. They truly were set apart from other humans but not in a way detectable by the eye. What made them incubi or succubi was on a genetic level and not defined by obvious outward appearances. They could be using a type of camouflage like Miyu had to cover the real color of her hair and eyes.

They were not so different from ghouls. Ghouls could disguise their bloody red eyes and repress their appetites for human flesh, hiding their true identities and masquerading as humans. However, the disguises always failed for one reason or the other no matter how carefully crafted and painstakingly kept up. Perhaps it was only a matter of time before their masks slipped as well.

At last, they were led to her father. He stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, beer in hand, speaking to a woman standing in front of him. By the way her hand pressed to his broad chest over his heart and her eyes met his, it was evident they were intimately involved.

Kuki stopped short, refusing to advance further. He stared at the man. Over six feet tall, muscular, tanned, blonde and blue eyed, he could be the epitome of the all American hero. He also shared physical traits with the two kids who had brought them here. Were they Miyu's half siblings? He glanced at the woman standing in front of her father. She was petite and small, another American classic with long wavy blond hair and sapphire blue eyes. She had to be their mother.

For a moment he felt sad for Miyu. When was the last time she was home? Had she just met her half siblings for the first time and not even known it? The girl and boy appeared to be young teenagers, probably thirteen and fifteen. Or was he assuming too much and making up stories in his head? Perhaps Miyu had failed to fill in those blanks of her past for him like so many others. Over the last thirty six hours he was becoming more and more aware of just how much he _did not_ know about her.

"Miyu," her father said, walking over to greet her.

The mountain of a man, about the same size of the one they had met in the forest, smiled revealing a set of large, incredibly white, impeccably straight teeth. However, this man's face was softer, more handsome - almost pretty. His large arms, massive biceps flexing, encapsulated the tiny woman in front of him, his daughter. She must look like her mother because not one single thing about her appearance resembled her father.

"Dad," she returned, hugging him back.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured, taking her face between his large hands. He kissed her forehead and both cheeks. "We're going to make you better. But tonight, we relax and have fun."

The people around them cheered and whooped happily. Kuki sneered in disgust. Couldn't these people see she was exhausted and sick?

"Kuki Urie," he heard her saying, realizing she was introducing him to her father.

"So this is him? Your boyfriend," he stated, not bothering to hide his disappointment.

He shrugged off her father's apparent disapproval. Kuki disapproved of all of this. He took the big paw extended to him and shook it. The large hand squeezed his like a vise, and he squeezed back just as powerfully. He would swear he heard something crack, but it was difficult to tell with all of the noise. A triumphant smile stretched his lips when the handsome man's face turned red.

"Thank you for bringing my little girl home. I was afraid for her making the trip by herself in her weakened state," her father said.

"Yes, me too. That is why I came. Do you really think this party is appropriate?" he asked, waving his hand around to bring attention to all of the people milling around them like swarming ants. "It has been a long trip. Much longer and more difficult than I expected. She should rest."

"Are you telling me what my daughter needs, boy?" the man demanded, narrowing his eyes in anger.

"Yes, yes I am," Kuki returned boldly, not intimidated in the least.

"Hmph," the American Hero snorted. "You're right." Clapping his hands to get everyone's attention, he announced, "Okay! Everyone out! Party's over! Ya ain't gotta go home, but you can't stay here."

The announcement was met with utterances of disappointment and few boos.

"All right, everybody out!" seconded the pretty blond woman who had been standing with him. She had not been formally introduced to them. "We can have another party at a later date."

"Take Miyu upstairs to her room while I get everyone out of here," her father told Kuki.

"Yes, sir," he returned, taking her by the arm.

Miyu led him through the kitchen to the back staircase. She walked up the stairs slowly, leaning heavily on his arm.

"I need a shower," she said.

"Okay," he responded. He would be thankful for a moment alone with her that did not involve hiking through the trees.

Entering the upstairs hallway, Kuki could see their suitcases sitting in front of one of the closed doors. He led her to the second to last door on the left, pushing it open.

A gigantic bed with pillar sized posts dominated the left side of the room. The large round decorative balls on top of the thick wooden bedposts were the size of cannonballs. A small table sat on each side of the bed. Two four drawer dressers and a free standing oval mirror sat on the right side of the room. A rocking chair was positioned in front of one of the large windows.

Kuki situated her on the side of the bed on top of the overstuffed light brown comforter.

"I'm going to lie down for just a minute," she yawned, propping herself against the pile of decorative pillows lining the headboard of the bed

"Okay. I'll unpack our things so you can get to your clothes. It won't take but a minute," he said, lifting her suitcase onto the unadorned rectangular trunk sitting at the end of the bed.

By the time he turned from depositing the handful of items into the top drawer, she was asleep. Snoring lightly, she lay curled onto her side, hugging the pillow shaped like a bear. He smiled. Taking the hand knit blanket in fall shades of yellow, orange, and red draped over the back of the rocking chair, he spread it over her body.

After emptying her suitcase, he unpacked his. Peeking out of the room, he could see downstairs due to the rest of the second floor being open to the first beyond the hallway. Two people walked around the living room. Her recognized them as Philip and June. They were cleaning, picking up cups and plates left behind by negligent party guests. He closed and locked the door.

Thankfully there was a bathroom attached to the bedroom so he did not have to wonder where one was located. He wished Miyu had been able to take a shower with him. However inappropriate it may be, he would have liked to made to love to her. He needed her closeness. But right now, his needs did not matter. After his shower, he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist to return to the room to check on her.

Miyu had rolled over, abandoning the bear, but remained rolled tightly into a little ball under the blanket. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Her cheeks were pink. He pressed his hand to her cheek then her forehead. She felt warm but not feverish.

There was a quiet knock on the door. Kuki went to the door, unlocking it to open it a crack.

"She's asleep?" her father asked.

"Yes. I told you she was exhausted," Kuki hissed, clearly agitated.

"Come down to the kitchen," her father said politely but obviously not as a request. "I would like to speak with you."

"Let me get dressed," he responded, his stomach clenching until he thought he might vomit.

Once dried off and dressed in a black v neck pullover and jeans, he padded downstairs barefoot. He returned to the kitchen via the back stairs, finding the man there brewing coffee. Her father used a ceramic pour over device sitting on top of a cup like the one she favored. Maybe she did get more than being a succubus from him.

"I assume you like coffee since you're with her," her father said without turning around.

"I do," Kuki replied, sliding onto one of the backless bar stools at the counter.

"Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Mitchell Garrison. You can call me Mitch. Yes, that was my present wife I was talking to when you walked in. Her name is Eliza. Philip and June are our children," he said, extending the freshly brewed, steaming cup of coffee to his guest.

"I didn't ask," Kuki rejoined, gratefully accepting the coffee.

"No, but I could see the questions in your eyes when you looked at me earlier," Mitch Garrison stated bluntly, his voice rich and smooth like the coffee. "Miyu knows all about them. I had written to her about them. That's why I sent those two out to meet you. She met them all on her last visit here." He continued, his voice gaining volume and speed. "I waited for her mother for years. When I realized she was not coming back, I moved on. I love my firstborn child with all of my heart. But she wanted to stay in her Mother's country. I didn't abandon her and create another family replace them. I simply got on with my life, choosing to live as I see fit...just like my first family did."

"Hmmm," Kuki hummed, staring into his mug.

For a brief moment he felt remorse for jumping to conclusions. He had wrongly assumed Mitchell Garrison pushed her mother out of his life and turned his back on Miyu. Quite the opposite was true. First her mother, then Miyu, made the selfish choice to leave the man behind, to live where and how they pleased. Then there were her half siblings. He wanted to think she had been too tired to react appropriately when reuniting with her half brother and sister in the forest. But then again, what was she supposed to do? Meet them with open arms, happy smiles, and warm hugs? They were complete strangers after all despite sharing blood ties.

"As you can see, being what we are is not restricted to a certain race or carry specific physical attributes. That's how we fit so easily into regular society. But we're still different," Mitch proclaimed, a hint of pride in his voice.

"Is that why you choose to hide in the mountains here?"

"Yeah. There's some of us who choose to venture out into the world. By and large, it's not a good idea. It's best we keep to ourselves, stay separated. Especially for succubi, like Miyu. I never wanted that life for her. Her mother made the choice for her. I tried to find her and bring her back. When she returned, I begged her to stay. By that time, it was too late. She had decided to make her home with the humans. Humans have no idea how endlessly needy and selfish they can be. They take a real toll on our kind with their incessant demands. Emotional parasites," he added bitterly.

"But you left the colony. You loved a human. You had a child with her," Kuki argued.

Mitch Garrison chuckled lightly, sliding Kuki Urie a sidelong glance and flashing that brilliant American smile.

"How do you think I know how just selfish they can be? Her mother stole her and abandoned me, refusing to return. She was murdered, you know. Did Miyu tell you that?"

"No,"Kuki answered in an exhale when he remembered to breathe.

"By a ghoul," her father added, turning to face him. The smile had turned menacing, hateful. "She told me what you are. I'm truly shocked and a little disgusted she can love you."

"Yeah, me too," Kuki agreed, avoiding the man's gaze. He took a sip of the coffee that scorched his tongue and seared his throat, hurting only slightly less than the man's scathing words.

"My girl is sweet, loving, accepting...forgiving beyond what she should be and beyond what some deserve."

"That I knew."

"Let me tell you a few more things about our kind, son," her father began, taking a seat on the bar stool beside him. "I love garlic. Italian food is my favorite. I'm not afraid of crosses or holy water or any other Christian symbols but I still don't like religion. I don't burst into flames in the sunlight. We stay indoors a lot to avoid being seen. I don't sleep in a coffin. Coffins are for dead people. We're not dead. That's one of the main attributes that separates us from vampires. Oh, and speaking of vampires, a stake through the heart will kill anyone...whether they're a vampire or not."

Kuki sipped his coffee without tasting it. He found humor in what her father had said but could not find it within himself to laugh. She had already educated him on the differences between her kind and vampires. Last night she had teased him about the vampire thing while packing. His sense of humor had failed him then too. Her father had that same dry, sarcastic wit she possessed. She had his forthrightness and his ability to shock and offend with the truth. Once again, he discovered more personality traits she had inherited from her father.

"Go ahead and laugh, boy. That's some funny shit," her father remarked, slapping him on the back. "Have you ever been called a zombie?"

"Actually, your daughter called me one once. After I called her a vampire," he confessed.

"Oh, I see," he muttered, scratching his chin. "Well, I'm sure it was then you discovered how fragile she can be. In most basic terms, we're powerful empaths with super human strength, better than average senses, and lengthier life spans. But we wear our hearts on our sleeves. We feel things more deeply than others. Including love."

Mitch sighed loudly, toying with the handle of his cup.

"Listen here, son," he began,"I only allowed you to come up to this mountain because I know how much my daughter loves you. I assume you love her just as much since you dared to make this trip."

"I do, sir," Kuki assured the caring father. "Speaking of that, I would like to speak with you about marrying your daughter."

"Aw, hell, boy, do you really think that girl needs you to ask me?"

"Well, no, but -"

"Urie, let's just stop that conversation right here. The next few weeks are not going to be easy for her. Or for you," Mitch added pointedly, turning his head to look at him. "I'm sure you've learned more about her in the last two days than you have in your entire relationship so far. Her mother was the same way. Mysterious, secretive. It was annoying as hell, but the woman had me hooked on her like a drug."

Kuki knew that feeling all too well. Anxiety swam through his gut stirring up nausea in its wake.

"I'm sure you will continue to learn more and more about her during your time here. Probably a lot of things you don't want to know," her father warned him. "Tell me when this is over if you still love her and want to spend the rest of your life with her."

"I'm confident I will, sir."

"Good. Because she's going to need you. She will get through this. Don't you worry about that. She's stronger than she looks right now."

Kuki nodded. He already knew she had the spirit of a survivor. He was well acquainted with her determination and stubbornness. Based on that information alone, he knew she would be just fine.


	21. The Doctor's Visit

Miyu awoke with a start, opening her eyes. At least she thought she opened her eyes. Surrounded by darkness so palpable she could practically feel it touching her skin, she assumed it must still be before dawn. She had forgotten how extreme the darkness could be here in the mountains.

Too much of her life had been lived in the city surrounded by electric lights. The last few years she had spent all of her nights awake. She never missed the darkness.

Extending her right arm, she patted the bed, searching for Kuki. Her fingertips brushed across what she believed to be his back. Rolling onto her side, she wiggled over to him to press her body to his.

"Mmmm," he groaned, moving around a little. "How do you feel?"

"Still tired," she murmured, pressing her lips to the back of his neck. "How about you?"

"The same. I could sleep for days."

"Then I'll leave you alone. I need a shower. I'm so gross."

Miyu reluctantly slid away from him, leaving the warmth and comfort of the cozy bed and her boyfriend. Sweat and dirt had formed a crust on her body. Oh, yuck! Peeling her clothes off, she desperately wished she had not fallen into an exhausted sleep being so grimy and disgusting. Thankfully, it was nothing lots of soap and hot water would not fix.

Flipping on the bathroom light temporarily blinded her because her eyes had adjusted to the black void filling the room to enable her to get there without stubbing her toes. After the black spots subsided and she could see again, she searched for towels and soap finding the bathroom had been fully stocked for their needs including her favorite shampoo. How thoughtful.

Miyu had never tried to get to know her step mother or her step siblings. Although she knew it was irrational and immature, she felt as if she would be betraying the memory of her mother if she allowed them into her heart.

Meeting her step siblings face to face yesterday had been awkward. Being exhausted and out of sorts, she had not been sure how to react to them. She had treated them coldly like strangers because that's what they were to her - and it was mostly her fault.

Miyu had so much in common with Kuki. They had both shut down and shut out the world to spare their own feelings. It was just easier that way. Yet somewhere along the way, maybe due to her intrinsic nature, she needed to have to feelings in her life. She needed to have them for other people and receive them others as well. Emotions were an essential part of being a succubus.

Once she had been sufficiently scrubbed from head to toe and boiled to thoroughly sanitize her skin, she emerged from the shower feeling like a new woman. Her empty tummy rumbling for food created a fluttering sensation under skin. Hastily dressing in a red and black flannel shirt and jeans, she pulled on a pair of socks and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

A light from the kitchen beckoned her like a lighthouse leads a ship into shore. When she rounded the corner from the back stairs, she slid to a stop upon seeing she was not the only one in the kitchen so early. To her surprise, her father stood in front of the coffee pot scooping heaping spoon fulls of grounds out of a bag and pouring them into the filter lined brew basket.

"Breaking out the good stuff for your prodigal daughter," she joked, coming to stand beside him.

"Coffee snob. Maybe if you were around more often I'd treat you to fancy schmancy coffee made with one of those special little gadgets you like," he shot back, opening the cabinet to get two cups.

He pulled out the two lopsided, slightly misshapen ceramic mugs June had made at summer camp when she was eight. The brown one had _Dad_ scrawled on it in black paint, the other _Miyu_ in purple paint on a rainbow background. Her father had told her about the mugs in a letter. Instead of sending hers to Japan, mostly for fear of it getting broken, he told her she could use it the next time she visited. Him remembering such a small, seemingly trivial thing brought a smile to her face.

Her tummy grumbled again sounding like a far off peal of thunder. Her cheeks burned with a blush of embarrassment when his head whipped around toward her.

"Wow, I thought there was a monster in the room for a second," he teased, not knowing the simple jibe actually pricked her feelings like a sharp needle.

Miyu stayed silent, the corners of her mouth drooping and her lips quivering as she tried to push them back up to maintain her smile.

"I'll make you some breakfast. Is bacon and eggs okay?" he asked, crossing the kitchen to the refrigerator.

"That sounds amazing. Did Eliza make cinnamon rolls?"

"Hey, kid, beggars can't be choosers. I'll ask her if she will make them tomorrow morning though." He gave her a brilliant smile, his blue eyes sparkling under the fluorescent kitchen light. "Toast? I can do that. The bread is homemade."

"Oh, yes, please," she returned.

The wonderful and inviting scent of coffee filled the kitchen. Unable to find her patience this morning, she pulled the half full pot out from under the basket to stick her cup underneath allowing the black liquid to pour directly into her cup.

"Impatience makes you talented apparently," he joked.

"Cream?" she asked, summarily ignoring his taunt.

"Second shelf toward the back."

"This is nice," she said, reaching into the refrigerator.

"Yeah. It's new. Our old one died last month," he returned, placing a slice of bacon in the pan.

"No," she giggled. "Being here with you. Having a nice conversation. Making breakfast. Well, you're making breakfast."

"It could be like this all the time if you'd just move here." He kept his voice even and calm, non-accusatory.

"Dad," she sighed, sitting down on one of the white cloud like cushions covering the round seat of the backless bar stool.

"Just sayin'..."

"Yeah, I know what you're just sayin', " she shot back. "If I was always here, our time together wouldn't be special."

"Yeah, it would. My baby would be home with me, and I wouldn't have to worry so much about her being a world away."

"Dad - "

"Oh, by the way," he went on as if she had not spoken. "I'm sorry about the whole party thing, If I had known how sick you really are, I would not have planned a homecoming party. You should have told me."

"Yeah, I know," she agreed, staring at the bottom of her empty coffee cup. "May I have some more coffee?"

"Sure thing." He exchanged her empty cup for a full plate of food.

"Thank you," she murmured when he slid a full cup of coffee over the counter to her.

"No problem. I like indulging you when you're here."

"Yeah, I enjoy it quite a bit myself."

"That boyfriend of yours seems like a great guy," he stated flatly, changing subjects fast enough to give her whiplash.

"He is. I'm glad you like him," she said, shoveling food into her mouth.

"I never said I like him. All I said I think he might be a good man. He would have to be to follow you here."

"He wouldn't take no for an answer. I begged him to stay home. But he wouldn't," she explained with her mouth full of half chewed food.

"Do you eat like that in front of him?" her father questioned her, grimacing.

"Yes," she mumbled around more food.

"Wow, you are a pig. If that didn't scare him off I guess nothing would." He paused, considering her carefully over the top of his asymmetrical coffee cup. "Does he know everything?"

"No."

"Has he seen your..." For a moment he struggled to find the words, rolling his eyes up to ceiling as if they were written there. " _Other_ side?"

"He's seen me human and like this. That's it. I don't want him to know about the _other side_ ," she said, speaking the last two words pointedly.

"That's not fair. You know everything about him. Have you seen him in his fully activated ghoul form?"

"No, not yet."

 _But I will soon enough. Fuck. I still need to tell Kuki about my discussion with Kaneki_ , she thought to herself, pushing her food around the plate with a piece of buttered toast.

"How much are you hiding from him?" her father inquired.

"Dad, I - "

"No, never mind," he interjected, holding up his hand for her to stop speaking. "That's between you and him." He scoffed, smiling at her. "You're so much like her. You're mother was wild, carefree, beautiful. Mysterious, unpredictable, determined. Later those attribute became something different entirely. She was irresponsible, fickle, secretive, deceptive, and hard-headed. All the reasons I loved her are the same reasons I grew to hate her."

Miyu swallowed, almost choking on her food because of the painful lump of emotion that swelled in her throat. Her face heated with anger. At the same time, the pain in her heart made her chest constrict so intensely she found it difficult to breathe. She put down her fork leaving the last few bites of food uneaten since her appetite deserted her. Taking a deep breath, she delivered her next words very carefully with a deceptively calm, affectless tone.

"So are you saying you will grow to hate me too?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all," her father answered truthfully.

He put down his cup, reaching across the counter to take both of her hands between his. His eyes met hers, boring into them to relay his sincerity.

"I will never _not_ love you. You are my child. But your boyfriend is a different story. He will only be able handle so many lies, being shut out so many times, before his heart can't take it anymore, and he has to let you go."

Was he speaking from his experience? Tears stung that back of her eyeballs, but Miyu chewed the inside of her cheek to keep them from falling. The metallic taste of blood seeped into her mouth as she bit through the tender flesh.

"Are you two ready to go?" Eliza inquired innocently, walking into the kitchen. She glanced from daughter to father and back, perplexed by the tension in the air. "Did I miss something?"

"No, not really," Mitch piped up cheerily when his daughter ignored the question. "We were just discussing a few important things."

"Dr. Burrell will be ready for us soon," she announced, putting on her jacket.

"Burrell? Do you mean - " Miyu queried, unable to complete the question before her father answered. He sure did keep interrupting her a lot.

"Everett's wife."

"Shit."

~\\..'../~

* * *

Miyu shifted uncomfortably on the crunchy paper covering the examining table located in the front room off of the sun room. The sun room acted as a reception and waiting area for the doctor's office which took up half of the Burrell house.

She was not quite as ill at ease as she could be. At least Everett was no where around the house at the moment. Without her asking, the chipper redheaded receptionist volunteered the information that he was already gone having left for his first patrol of the immediate perimeter before dawn.

Miyu pulled nervously at the front of the cloth gown she had changed into for the examination. Her father and Eliza sat in the waiting room, enjoying sunshine and eating cranberry orange scones. She loved cranberry orange scones. She would rather be anywhere but here. Finally the doctor walked in.

Dr. Burrell's belly entered the room first - big, round, ready to pop any day - covered with a red sweater and framed by her white doctor's coat. Her coal black hair hung in waves that cascaded down her back to her waist. Her skin was the warmest shade of coffee mixed with cream. Honey brown eyes met Miyu's, and a friendly smile stretched the woman's full lips painted bright crimson.

"Hello, I'm Vida," she introduced herself, putting out her hand.

"What an awesome name. Doesn't it mean life?" Miyu asked, shaking the doctor's hand. The woman had a self-assured, firm grip instead of the limp, dead fish handshake.

"Why, yes it does," she returned happily, her golden brown eyes glittering. "Everett told me you were beautiful and kind. I can see why he was in love with you as a teenager."

Miyu felt herself blush from the roots of her hair on her forehead all the way down to her chest. _Idiot,_ she thought, _why the hell would you tell your wife that?_

"Don't worry. He told me to take very good care of you because you were a friend of his. The way he talked about you though, I could tell he had once been in love with you," she explained, sitting down on the rolling stool. Propping the clipboard on her belly, she clicked her pen.

The receptionist who also acted as a medical assistant had taken Miyu's vitals and gotten the overview of her health history. This is not what Miyu had anticipated. She had expected more of an informal talk, not a clinical and modern approach.

The last time she had come for a cleansing ceremony it had been a quick and easy affair. There had been lots of lit candles in a small room crowded with books and jars of miscellaneous powders, liquids, and herbs. Incense and sage were burning, filling the air with smoke and a heavy, cloying scent. There was incantations spoken by the medicine woman, her father, and a few of the elders. The ritual had been completed in an hour.

"I understand you were here for a cleansing ceremony fifteen years ago," the doctor stated matter of factly, flipping through the pages attached to the clipboard.

"Yes, Miss Mary Clara was the medicine woman," she replied.

"Miss Mary Clara was my mother," Dr. Burrell rejoined, smiling broadly. "I had heard her talk about you from time to time. The exotic half breed succubus."

Miyu stared at the forthright woman. Did she have no filter whatsoever? Succubi were all about being open and honest, but this woman seemed to forget about emotions entirely, stomping on them until it hurt.

Maybe Miyu had become _too_ human. Perhaps she had lived far too many years keeping to herself, avoiding getting close to other people. She had spent a long time staying quiet about her feelings and trying desperately not to get tangled in the emotions of others. In the last few years, she had failed miserably on the part about not getting emotionally involved with others.

"You, and your mother, were like legends around here," the outspoken woman continued. "You were something akin to urban legends in the colony. Your mother became a cautionary tale of what can happen to our kind if they venture too far out into the world, if they dare to mix with an ordinary human. Then you served as a reminder why it's never a good idea to forsake your home, your family. It only leads to trouble and can kill you."

 _How can this damn woman say such hateful things with a smile on her face?_ , Miyu wondered, glaring at the placid doctor. She remained quiet, unsure of what to say in rebuttal. Unfortunately, no matter how crude her words, there was truth to them.

Dr. Burrell proceeded to give Miyu a typical exam: pressing the stethoscope all over her chest and back to check her heart and lungs, thumping knees and elbows to test reflexes, shining a light in her nose, eyes, and ears. Generally poking, probing, and palpating to determine the overall status of her inner and outer health.

"We will need a more in depth cleansing ritual this time. You've gotten yourself into quite a bad state here."

"More in depth? Meaning?" Miyu prompted her. She could not help but be suspicious the woman might be trying to poison her when she handed her a pint jar full of a mixture of herbs that looked more like random leaves and twigs.

"Blend that up with water in the morning and drink it. Think of it as a wheat grass smoothie," she advised her. "It will cleanse your inner body and your aura."

"Mmmm, sounds delicious," she muttered, grimacing at the jar.

Next, Dr. Burrell pushed a corked tube of clear oil into Miyu's palm.

"That's the frankincense for your bath to begin the ritual to cleanse your outer body."

Miyu received a second tube, this one full of a viscous amber fluid; myrrh to be mixed with wine and drank before for the ceremony. A large fire would be built and the entire colony would gather to chant and sing. Bundles of sage and cedar branches would be burnt to chase away lingering negative energy. Then she would spend at least a week resting. Once recovered, she would be free to return home.

"That's it?" Miyu asked receiving the lengthy spiel of the progression of events.

"It sounds simple, but I assure you it's not," the doctor warned, her smile fading at last. "This is going to be a difficult process. You're going to go through hell and back. You will be forced to face all of your demons."

"I'll be fine," Miyu assured her with a smile. "I've faced demons before. More than once. I'm not afraid of them. As a matter of fact, I have one waiting for me to return to Japan."


	22. Freedom in the Truth

Kuki woke up in the middle of the afternoon. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept this late - or if he ever had in his entire life. Pulling his black v-neck shirt over his head, he walked out of the room with his mind set on finding his girlfriend.

Voices and laughter from downstairs floated up to the second floor catching his attention. Looking over the railing, he saw the entire family sitting in the living room.

Mitch and Eliza sat on opposite ends of the L-shaped, dark brown leather sectional sofa. He was reading a sports magazine. She was thumbing through a book on interior design. Their son and daughter sat on the cream colored carpet in the middle of the room playing a board game. Seeing kids their age playing a game that did not involve a cell phone or some kind of console was weird.

Miyu sat with her legs curled under her in a puffy tan colored rocking recliner. She sipped on a cup of coffee while reading a book. The chair she had chosen was set slightly apart from the others, further separated from them by a glass and wood coffee table.

As he gazed at her, Kuki's heart weighed heavily in his chest. Her family was so different from her; so painfully stereotypical they were too good to be true. Were they wearing clever, elaborate disguises?

Miyu had used a chameleon like subterfuge herself, changing her hair and eyes to fade more easily into human society. He had to admit he was not sure what a succubus was supposed to look like. He wasn't even sure of her true nature as a succubus having only caught glimpses of it through some of her interactions and the disjointed memories she shared with him.

Miyu had hidden behind a mask of human normalcy for many years, caging the monster inside for only a few to see. Actually, she was not too different than a lot of ghouls. Most of them acted and looked as human as possible; choosing to stay under the radar of fear driven human beings or hate driven ghouls so they could live their lives in peace. Why was being human so great and being anything else so bad?

When Miyu looked up at him, her golden orbs fastening onto his, Kuki could not stop himself from smiling. He mouthed hello to her, and she returned it with a flirtatious little wink that made his heart beat faster like a school boy holding hands for the first time.

"Oh, Urie, when you're done flirting with my daughter, you should come down and join us," Mitch Garrison's voice boomed.

Titters of laughter ran through the living room. Miyu's cheeks turned pink, and she smiled up at him shyly.

Kuki could feel his face warming with embarrassment as he walked down the stairs. He had been caught flirting with his girlfriend by her father. The flirtation had been innocent thankfully. If the man knew other things he had done to his daughter, he would not be so willing to joke around. But how could her father not know what was going on between the two of them?

"Are you all right?" Miyu asked, standing up to give Kuki a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm fine," he replied, hugging her to his side not wanting to be too amorous in front of the family.

"Are you hungry? There's a plate for you from lunch in the refrigerator," Eliza offered, lowering the foot of her recliner.

"Oh, no, don't get up," Miyu insisted, taking him by the arm. "I'll take him to the kitchen. I need another cup of coffee anyway."

"Are _you_ okay?" he questioned her when they were alone in the kitchen.

"I'm just ready to get this over with and go home," she mumbled, getting his plate of lasagna out of the fridge.

"Did something happen?"

"No, not yet."

"What do you mean not yet?"

"After you eat, can we take a walk?"

 _More walking? Please, no, I'd rather not_ , he wanted to whine out loud.

"Of course," he replied.

Apparently she needed to talk about something bothering her immensely for her to be willing to tromp all over the place some more.

Miyu took his plate from the microwave and set it on the counter in front of one of the bar stools. He took his cue and sat down while she poured them both a cup of coffee. Then she took the plastic lid off of the pan beside the coffee pot. She pulled out a massive cinnamon roll, the thick white icing dribbling down the sides and onto her fingers.

"Hungry?" he queried with a raised eyebrow as the abundant icing continued to flow down onto her hand.

"I have to start preparing for the ritual tomorrow," she said, licking the sugary white goop from her palm before it reached her wrist.

Suddenly his jeans got a lot tighter. Only she could effect him this way by performing such a mundane act as lapping up excess icing.

"You know if you want to go back to the bedroom after this I can lick that off for you."

"Mmmm," she moaned, taking a bite of the fluffy bread part.

Arousal hit him like a punch in the gut making hm the tiniest bit nauseated.

"As tempting as that offer is, I must decline at the moment. But definitely later," she added with a waggle of her eyebrows.

"You can be really sexy sometimes," he purred, resisting the desire to catch the icing droplet at the corner of her mouth with his tongue.

Miyu took another big bite of the sweet treat.

"Are you insinuating I'm not always sexy?" she asked, her speech garbled by the huge chunk of roll he could see rolling around in her mouth as she spoke.

"I would never do such a thing. I'll tell you outright. Sometimes you're gross. You're being disgusting right now. Ow!" he howled in feigned injury when she punched him in the arm.

"These are my absolute favorite. Especially when Eliza makes them. She baked them for dessert today so I could eat my fill before tomorrow."

"What happens tomorrow?'

"The purge," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "To cleanse my body and spirit."

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Uh huh."

"Gross."

"Yeah, so you might want to disappear tomorrow. Go hang out with June and Philip. Tomorrow is not going to be a good day for me."

"No. With you is exactly where I need to be. Especially on a really bad day," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "I'll be talking to you from the other side of the bathroom door, but I'll stay with you...for better or for worse."

"You make it sound like we're married," she chuckled wryly.

"Do you want to be married?" he asked, staring straight ahead instead of at her.

Kuki shoved a forkful of the food in his mouthful but could not taste it. His belly quivered like a bowl bowl full of gelatin as the deafening silence extended between them. He kept eating despite the wave of anxiety induced nausea washing over him making him wish he had never said anything.

"Yeah, I do," she answered finally. "Especially to you. Are you asking?"

"Maybe. Are you saying yes?" He found the craftsmanship of the cabinets in the kitchen absolutely fascinating as he continued to concentrate on them to avoid eye contact with her.

"Maybe."

Kuki finished his food without another word spoken from himself or from her. Once again, he was grateful for her uncanny ability to know when to stay quiet.

As they put on their jackets to go outside, he had the sinking feeling they had left one emotionally demanding conversation to begin another one as they strolled along the gravel path winding through the village.

"What do you think about this place?" Miyu questioned him, their footsteps crunching over the small stones.

"Honestly?" He glanced at her for affirmation she wanted a truthful opinion. He continued when she nodded. "I believe that nothing and no one around here are as they seem."

"You're right about that," she confirmed.

Kuki waited to ask his next question when Miyu paused, returning the wave of an older couple who were sitting on their front porch on a swing.

"As I'm sure you've guessed, their present appearances are facades. I don't know why they feel they have to hide in front of you," she mused aloud.

"They don't know me. I'm not one of them like you are." He noted her snort of protest but pressed on without questioning it. "Maybe it makes them feel better to pretend to be regular humans. Or maybe it's just habit. Who knows? It really doesn't matter."

People were sitting on their front porches or talking to their neighbors at the edges of their fence-less yards. Children played on the front lawns and teenagers blasted music from back porches or decks. There was conversation and laughter filling the air along with the delicious scents of slow cooking dinners. It was like watching a scene from many, many years ago when community and family meant more than convenience and social status.

"Once this ritual is over, I want to go home as soon as possible," she stated bluntly as they stepped into the treeline and continued walking away from the village. "I don't think I'll _ever_ come back."

"Why?" he asked, taking her by the arm to turn her to face him. "What's wrong?"

Kuki pressed his palm to her cool cheek, lifting her head so he could see her eyes. The light was slowly coming back into them. Being here in the mountain air among her kind seemed to helping her already. The skin between her eyes pinched into little lines of worry.

"I think something happened to my mother here," she said.

"Like what? Hey," he murmured, pulling her into his arms when big pearl like tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

"I don't know. I don't think my father even knows about what happened."

After the conversation Kuki had with her father, he would agree. As far as Mitch Garrison knew, his wife had fled from the colony to return to her own family in Japan not giving a damn about him.

"I think these people said horrible things to her. I believe they did something to make her leave and never ever come back," Miyu sniffled, hanging on to him with her arms hooked under his arms and over his shoulders.

"Your father believes your mother left because she wanted a different life for you. One far apart from this one, from this place," he said, embracing her tightly when her body started to shake.

"Yeah, well, if they were hateful enough to run her out of the colony and away from the man she loved I can understand why," she muttered irritably.

"Do you want to find out what happened? You can, can't you? By consuming their emotions and reliving their memories or something?" He could barely breathe she was squeezing him so fiercely.

"No. We can block our emotions and memories from each other." She sighed loudly; a sound full of disappointment and defeat. "Truth be told, I don't think I want to know. I can't imagine how badly my mother must have been hurt or how much this would hurt my father. Sometimes what we don't know can't hurt us. And it's better that way...right?"

"Y-yeah," he stuttered, unsure if he agreed or not because it definitely depended on the situation.

He contemplated what she might be hiding from him, this other part of her that several people had hinted at but never bothered to elaborate upon. He hated that men like Arima and Kaneki knew about that part of her, but she had not shared it with him. This cleansing ritual had the potential to reveal all of her best kept secrets to him.

"Kuki, there's something I need to tell you." She unhinged her arms from his body, taking a step back from him.

Kuki's stomach tied itself in knots at the unusually dire tone of her voice. They had serious conversations before but he could not recall her voice sounding quite so ominous and grim.

"Something might happen during the ritual that will change your mind about me," she said in annoyingly vague terms.

"Nothing could change the - " He immediately stopped speaking when the tears she had been holding back leaked from her eyes. His fingers gripped her upper arms tightly as if holding her to keep her from running away.

"Please, just listen. Keep the words I say to you in mind during the ceremony. If anything happens to change your feelings, just go. Don't feel like you have to talk about it or let me down gently. Just leave and never look back," she implored him, patting his chest over his heart.

"But I love you. Where will you go anyway?"

"I'll runaway somewhere. I'll stay anywhere but here. And I won't go back to Japan."

Every muscle in his abdomen clenched making him almost lose the battle to _not_ vomit. How could she forsake both of the places she knew as home? Why would she abandon him so easily? Why is she telling him to runaway from her if something happens? If _what_ happens? None of this was making sense.

"Nothing about you can possibly be worse than any of the ghouls you've faced. Working with Arima and Kaneki, I'm sure you've seen some of the worst monsters alive. Hell, look at the monsters those two are. Please tell me how you can be worse than them," he begged her, holding her gaze.

"I might not be worse than them, but I'm certainly among their ranks. I killed so many."

"We all have. I don't see how this - "

"Sometimes I liked it!" she yelled, cutting off his words.

Time seemed to stand still. For several exceptionally long, nerve racking minutes, they stared at each other. Even the forest creatures remained silent and the wind refrained from whispering in their ears.

"Would you hate me if I said that sometimes I enjoyed killing more than I should?" he inquired, loosening his grip when he realized his fingers were biting into her skin with bruising force.

"Kaneki asked me to come back to the CCG when we return."

God, how he loathed the breakneck speed at which she would change subjects. So there it is. One thing she had been hiding from him. Wow...the truth is painful. No wonder she was acting so strangely and horribly distracted the night they were preparing to leave.

Anger simmered inside of him, but he refused to allow it to boil over without hearing everything she had to say first. Then he would decide exactly who to be angrier with and exactly how angry to be.

"He offered me the deal of being your partner. I'll work as a consultant on a case by case basis, as I chose," she added as if that was supposed to make it okay.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" he demanded, gritting his teeth to keep his words under control.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I told him?"

"Obviously you told him yes or we wouldn't be having this conversation. Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because I can be with you. And I'll be doing what I'm good at...what comes naturally," she added, lowering her eyes from his.

"Don't be stupid," he snapped, letting go of her completely before he shook her hard enough to shake some sense into her tiny little mind. "When some asshole whose been running around the city eating people and destroying lives, gets what they deserve it's fine to feel gratified that you gave it to them. You're not a natural killer. And don't give that me that bullshit that you enjoy it."

"You don't know who I was - "

"WAS!" he bellowed, shaking his finger in her face. "You're right. I don't know who you _were,_ and I don't want to know. Just like you don't want to know about the long gone, painful events of the past that took place here with your mother. Nothing can change the past."

Miyu's shoulders shook as she began to sob in earnest.

"Are you still trying to make me hate you? To make me go away because you're scared to death of love?" Kuki asked her.

"No. Maybe. I don't know!" she cried out, holding her head in her hands and dropping to her knees. "I know we've been through this before but..."

Her words dissolved into tears which she cried with great, heaving sobs. Kuki knelt down in front of her, putting his arms around her trembling shoulders.

"Look, I know you're going through a tough time so let me be here for you. I will help you through it," he assured her.

"Oh, you're one to talk. Acting like a damn iceberg, so cold and so hard, never letting anyone get close," she snapped.

"Okay, okay, we've already established we're both a mess. We need to stop trying to rebuild the walls. That aside, I am still angry with you for not telling me about the deal with Kaneki," he admitted. "But I can't say I don't like the idea of you being by my side, watching my back at work. We'll discuss this further when we return to Tokyo."

Kuki place his finger under her chin, turning her head up to see her face. He pressed his lips to hers that were wet with her tears and salty to the taste. His mouth remained unmoving on hers, heating her cold lips with his. When her arms enclosed his neck, pulling her body into his, his lips lifted from hers slightly before pressing down firmly for a kiss.

The sweet cinnamon lingering on her tongue tickled his taste buds when it brushed across his. The appetite that took hold of him earlier while he was eating came back. His hand slipped under the edge of her fuzzy flannel shirt.

"Sorry," he apologized when his cold fingers drifted across her warm belly causing her to intake air violently with a hiss.

"It's okay," she whispered, placing her hand over his to keep him from pulling it back.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he inquired when she urged his hand upward toward her breast.

"Oh, yes," she moaned when his now warm palm covered her breast.

"Here?"

"Then where? At the house? With the whole damn family there to hear?"

"Good point."

"I wish I had worn a skirt," she grumbled, struggling with the button on her jeans.

"Me too," he groaned, taking off his jacket to lay it on the ground.

Kuki took her into his arms, giving her several short pecks on the lips then one lengthy kiss before carefully laying her back on his jacket. He unzipped her jeans, pulling them and her underwear off in one long swooping motion.

Her fingers went to the button and zipper on his black jeans when he moved between her legs. He moaned with pleasure and gratitude when she reached inside pulling him free of the uncomfortable cotton prison. Next came the even more blissful sensation of sinking into her warm, wet body that accepted him so willingly, so ready to love him.

Kuki had never had sex outside and definitely not in the cold. Luckily for him, none of his body was exposed. Her body heated his giving him all of the warmth he needed to ward off the chill of the brisk autumn breeze. She whimpered and moaned in his ear, calling his name, begging him to drive her into mind numbing bliss.

He didn't want to think about anything anymore either. Both of them thought too much which prevented them from feeling enough. Considering what she is, he found her lack of emotion at times to be ridiculously ironic.

"I love you, Kuki Urie," Miyu announced suddenly, holding his head so he would have to look at her.

Her eyes glowed like the super heated yellow flames in a raging fire. Her lips had turned blood red and demanded his kiss. He obliged, pressing his lips to hers forcefully while invading her mouth with his tongue. She was more than willing to be conquered, opening her mouth and her legs wider to accept him into her further.

"I want to marry you and love you forever," she whispered, her eyes closing slowly to block out their beautiful light. Her mouth closed then opened, forming his name in a ragged whisper when he gave her everything inside of him.

His hips thrust forward, the sweet end coming in a rush of fluid emotions. Once his body was spent, he hovered above her unable to keep from staring at her lovely face. Her cheeks were blushed from their amorous endeavors. Although her eyes were no longer glowing, they still shone brightly with happiness.

"I love you too. I can't wait to marry you. I'll make you a very happy woman," he promised.

"Oh, Kuki, you silly man," she sighed, running her fingers through his hair. "You already do."


	23. The Harvest Moon

Everett took off his heavy soled boots on the porch to leave them by the door. It was late, or early, just before dawn, and he did not want to alert the beast to his presence should she be asleep. In his stocking feet, he glided soundlessly through the deserted waiting room that used to be their sun room.

Passing through the short hall of patient rooms, he expected to see the light on in his wife's office but thankfully, it was not. Breathing a sigh of relief when he entered their living room, he dropped onto the couch, exhausted from his final late night patrol. His eyes burned as if acid had been thrown into them. His feet ached but not nearly as much as his heart.

He lay down, resting his head on the hand embroidered pillow. His wife would have a fit to see him lying on the decorative pillow she had made herself. Everything about her had overtaken his home and his life. Their life had become about appearances and how everyone in the colony perceived them. It was tiresome.

Draping his arm over his eyes, expelling a weary sigh, he tried not to see the image that had burned itself into his memory. The two of them, Miyu and that man, lying in the leaves, making love, whispering about how much they loved each other. It had taken everything inside of him not to throw up yet he couldn't look away or move. They had no idea he was there, watching. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else.

Everett had made the preparations for the upcoming cleansing ritual as requested by his dear wife. He inhaled deeply, but he still felt as if he could not breathe.

A crawling sensation like a spider skittering up his arm made chill bumps raise up on his skin. Everett's entire body tensed. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the fight or flight mechanism revved up which he quelled by a sheer act of will.

 _Shit,_ he thought, lying still, feigning sleep. _I should of known._

The floorboards creaked as if someone had taken a step into the living room. Someone hadn't just entered; they were already there before he arrived, waiting for him in the dark

"Feeling guilty, my darling?" his wife inquired, flicking on the floor lamp sitting beside her rocking chair.

Everett forced himself to remain calm, popping open one eye to cast a cursory glance at her. Dressed for bed in her peach colored flannel nightgown, her fingers worked nimbly with the sharp gold knitting needles weaving the final stitches of the soft pink blanket that would hold their soon to be born baby girl. The wooden planks groaned under the runners of the chair as she slowly rocked back and forth. She made a lovely picture of motherly contentment.

"If I were a jealous woman, I would be angry that you still care so much about her. I would also find it pathetic that despite her rejecting you and having the audacity to show up with that new mate of hers, you don't hate her," Vida said, her voice calm, controlled, each word calculated.

"You are a jealous woman," Everett corrected, keeping his tone neutral, almost bored. "I have every reason to hate her yet you are the one who hates her the most."

"She left you alone. She took everything away from you. Everything you could have been. Everything you _should_ have been. Doesn't that make you angry?" she asked, finishing the final loop to complete the blanket.

"I never wanted an arranged marriage. Neither did she. It was a mutual agreement between the two of us to call if off," he muttered, her barbed words stoking the fires of fury warming his belly.

"Is that what you tell yourself?" she scoffed. "Whatever gets you through the night, my dear."

Vida was making herself the target of his ire at the moment. She had an innate talent for finding the right things to say to push every last emotional button inside of him. Yes, for a long, long time he hated Miyu for running away, for breaking the betrothal agreement, and destroying the plans that had been made for them. However, he had forgotten what it was like to hate her until he saw her with that man.

 _She was supposed to be mine. Dammit!,_ he raged inside.

Everett , a half breed like Miyu, had been her destined mate. She was never supposed to leave. She was supposed to be with him, his other half to make a whole; two parts of a single unit to become an unstoppable guardian.

They were responsible for the safety and protection of the community. Their preternatural half imparted the strength, life span, and unique abilities required to provide safety for the members of the group. Their human side enabled them to move freely between the two worlds, blending in easily with either side while keeping one hidden from the other.

Above and beyond that duty, Everett and Miyu were meant to be the progenitors of a new breed. They were supposed to be the half human lab rats of a genetic experiment using the old fashioned method of procreation. They would bear and raise the first generation of natural born guardians within the colony without the necessity of the incubi or succubi seeking outsider humans to create them. If the experiment worked, the gene pool would be expanded and diversified eventually eliminating the need for human intervention while weeding out their human frailties and weaknesses through time.

Unfortunately, Miyu's human mother got wind of the plan. Doing what any good mother scared out of her mind would do, she took her child and ran. To this day, only a few select people knew of the plan or knew why Miyu's mother actually left. Mitch Garrison was not one of those people.

His second wife Eliza, on the other hand, was a different story. She had happily married the bereft man who grieved his wife and daughter as if they were dead because according to the colony they might as well be dead. Eliza had wanted Mitch for herself all along while detesting Miyu's mother. All too willingly, she took on the job to keep him in the dark about the real reason for his first wife's kidnapping of their daughter and subsequent abandonment of him and the colony .

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Everett asked her, sitting up on the couch. "The process is risky and might not even work."

"Sweetheart," Vida purred. "I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

She placed the blanket on top of the huge basket full of different colored yarn skeins on the floor beside her chair. Even with her above average strength, she struggled to push her burgeoning body out of the rocking chair. Once on her feet, her hands lovingly caressed the expansive roundness of her abdomen encompassing their child.

"There has never been a more ideal night for a soul transference. The heavens are literally aligning for us. There is going to be a harvest moon during the cleansing ritual. What better time for harvesting the spirit of the guardian? Miyu's soul will never be more pure and clean than it will be then. Our child will be born at the same time tonight. Can you not see that it is an act of destiny that she came back and the ceremony will be taking place at this exact time?"

"I see your point, but I don't think - " he began, scrubbing his hands over his weary face.

"Don't think!" his wife shrieked, abruptly cutting him off. "What was meant to be yours all along will finally be in your grasp!" She placed her hand on his chest over his heart, her other hand stroking his smooth black hair. "You won't have your precious Miyu but some things can't be helped. You'll still have me, my darling."

 _Oh, joy,_ he thought to himself.

Everett gritted his teeth avoiding looking into her glowing yellow eyes ignited by the flames of her self-serving madness. He wished she would stop petting him as if she were placating a hurt child.

"What I need you to do is kill Miyu Nakashima. Free her soul to transfer it to our child. Then our daughter will become what you and her were meant to be. Two half breeds will finally make a whole, she will become the perfect guardian to protect this colony. We will rise to power and become the leaders."

"I had no idea you were really so selfish and hateful," he growled through his teeth, managing to make eye contact with her. "Why is it so important to you to become the leader?"

"I will do anything to protect this colony, to protect these people, _my_ people," she sneered, taking great care to emphasize the distinction of her status as a purebred succubus. "I will never allow a damn human to take anyone I love from me again. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. I understand," he grumbled, getting to his feet to stand in front of her rather than allowing her to look down on him any longer.

Over six feet tall, Everett towered over her by more than a foot. Tiny, bitter, and mean as hell, the little woman intimidated him as she glared up at him.

"I know you don't love me. You never have. Ours was a marriage of convenience, and we both know that. We were both hurting and needed someone."

He lowered his face close to hers, his eyes shifting between both of her irises alight with a ambient amber light from the deep-seated hatred in her heart. He would probably regret his next words, but he was going to speak them. He was about to regret a lot of his actions. If he was going to kill the woman who should have been his wife, he was going to speak his mind to the demon woman he did marry.

"It's not Miyu's fault or mine that a human killed your first husband. He cheated on you in case you've forgotten. Can't say I blame that man for shooting your husband in the back of his head as he fucked his wife. It was your husband's fault you were left behind, alone and pregnant. I did you a favor by marrying you and accepting his baby as my own. You really should be more grateful, you heinous bitch."

Everett's head twisted painfully to the right after her open hand forcefully struck his left cheek delivering a punishing slap. Maybe he deserved the retribution; maybe he didn't.

"I will complete the task my mother couldn't fifteen years ago," she informed him resolutely.

A fire burned in her molten gold eyes as she glowered at him with an iron clad resolve. Her beauty hid the most fearsome evil inside which he got to see on an up close and frequent basis.

"I will bring back the guardian spirit to the colony. We will live and rule as a king and queen," he stated without meaning a single word. He was telling her what she wanted to hear.

Everett rubbed his throbbing jaw. He could not care less about being in charge of this damnable colony of selfish, soul sucking, otherworldly weirdos. Deep in his heart, the heart that stupidly still loved her, he knew Miyu didn't deserve to die. However, to keep the demon in front of him happy, he would offer up Miyu as a sacrifice. Maybe if she were dead he could get over her.

~..'..~

* * *

Miyu hugged the toilet as her stomach spewed forth another fountain of the despicable, vile fluid she had been vomiting for what seemed like hours. Black and tar like, the thick, viscous substance had the consistency of burned motor oil and what she assumed would be the same taste.

Once her throat was sufficiently scorched by the acidic vomit and her stomach emptied, she wiped her mouth with the waiting towel already smeared with gray-black soot like stains. She flushed the gross mess away before resting her forehead on the cool plastic of the seat. The cleansing had begun early this morning, and she was ready for it stop since the sun had almost set.

"Miyu, are you all right?" Kuki asked from the other side of the bathroom door.

"It's safe at the moment if you want to come in," she replied, her voice shaky.

The door opened, and he cautiously peered in. Taking a chance, he came in and knelt down in front of her, handing her a bottle of water before placing an ice pack on the back of her neck.

"Oh, god, that feels great," she whispered. "Thank you."

Her heated skin immediately began to melt the ice that cooled her and helped reduce her nausea. The chilled water she drank put out the fire in her throat as she drained the bottle. Although she wanted more, she feared drinking too much because that would only provide her body with more fluid to expel.

"Eliza said it should be over soon. She explained that your body is ridding itself of the negative emotions and memories you've absorbed from others," he said, moving the ice pack to the side of her neck.

"I'm sorry," she apologized to him.

"Don't apologize," he murmured, pushing back the sweaty hair plastered to her red cheeks. "I probably would have had to do this someday. You know, morning sickness and all...when you're pregnant."

"Children?" she exhaled in a rush.

"You want to have babies with me, right?"

Miyu had never considered having children with anyone before. Not that she did not want them, she had just never thought of them as being an option. She had assumed she would always be alone.

But things had changed because of Kuki Urie. What would their child be like? Human, succubus, and ghoul - a frightening genetic cocktail. Would it even be possible for them to have a child with all of their mixed up DNA?

"I don't know. I just - " She paused to allow the wave of nausea to wash over her, cresting then ebbing away without ending in a disgusting flow. Her eyes watered when another wave started to build. "You might want to leave."

"I'll go get you some more water. I'm sure you're going to need it."

Miyu took the ice pack from him, applying it to the back of her neck. Thankfully the queasiness subsided. Her body started shaking to ward off a chill so she abandoned the ice pack.

Crawling over to the tub on all fours, she reached over the side and turned on the faucets. The small bottle of essential oils sat on the wide edge of the oval porcelain tub set halfway into the floor. Uncorking it, she took a sniff of the cork soaked with the aromatic oils of frankincense and myrrh. The two created a scent something akin to citrus blended with wet earth. Clean and natural like a grove of orange trees after a refreshing rain.

Placing the pad of her finger over the end of the bottle, she wet the tip with a little of the oil. She massaged the scented oil into the skin above her upper lip before pouring the entire bottle into the stream of hot running water. The scent quelled the residual sick feeling in her gut.

Her shaking fingers went to the buttons on her shirt. She fumbled feebly with the small button, unable to free it from the hole. Her fingers were still too numb from holding the ice pack to work well.

"Dammit," she grunted in frustration.

"Can I help?" Kuki asked.

"Perfect timing," she sighed with relief. "I do need your help."

Kuki reached under her arms, lifting her up like a child to sit her on the edge of the tub. Her eyes studied his face as he set about undoing each tiny button on her blue and white flannel shirt. His face appeared surprisingly relaxed, the hard angles of his jaw and nose seemed softer and rounder in the muted light. She liked the way his eyes no longer upheld an impenetrable wall having yielded to the tender feelings he carried for her.

Miyu traced his jaw from his chin to his ear, her fingers drifting back across his high cheekbone before her hand fell away so he could slide her shirt from her body. She smiled at him when he moved closer, reaching around her in a loose embrace to unhook her bra. Goosebumps raised across her back under the light touch of his fingertips. More gooseflesh appeared along her arms as his palms glided down them to remove her bra.

"Sometimes being vulnerable, allowing someone to help you, is a good thing," Kuki said, taking her by the hands to raise her to a standing position. "You taught me that."

"It's a lesson I'm learning also," she admitted, her arms hanging by her sides as he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans.

Her hands held onto his shoulders as he lowered his body along with her jeans and underwear. She lifted one foot then the other for him to take them off completely. This was the second time he had undressed her in such an intimate manner; she could definitely get used to it. Holding on to his hand to steady herself, she stepped into the scented water.

"So is the worst over?" Kuki asked, sitting on the step built into the side of the bathtub.

"Oh, my god, I hope so," she groaned, sinking into the wonderfully hot water until it reached her neck.

Kuki cupped his hand in the water, dribbling it over her head.

"Hey!" she cried out, giggling. She reclined against the gradually sloped back of the tub, her eyes connecting with his. "There's a Harvest Moon tonight."

"Harvest Moon? What is that?"

"It signals the beginning of the autumnal equinox, the start of fall. It became known as the Harvest Moon because the moon rises at sunset, big and bright, offering the farmer's extra light and more time to harvest their crops."

"And to you it means more, right?" he ventured, sprinkling water across her chest.

"Of course," she rejoined, running her hands up her arms to massage the scented water and oil into her skin. "It's a great night for rituals. Spiritual energy is higher than normal. Or so I've always been told. But I suppose that's pretty much with any full moon."

"What do you believe?" His fingers skimmed over her chest from one shoulder to the other.

"I don't know really," she murmured. "I'm confused about a lot of things where my succubi heritage is concerned."

"Is that the only thing you're confused about?" he asked, sliding his hand down her arm.

"If you're referring to us, I'm no longer confused about that," she said, threading her fingers through his as he held her hand under the water.

"Good," he said, sliding the fingers of his free hand through her hair.

Miyu held his ardent gaze, his dark eyes capturing hers, as his fingers slipped down her neck. Her breath hitched when his smooth fingertips grazed the side of her breast.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made them both jump guiltily. Kuki splashed the water over her shoulder nonchalantly as if assisting her with bathing while Miyu peeked around him to see Eliza standing at the door.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, her porcelain cheeks stained with a bright red blush. "I brought you something."

Eliza entered the room carrying a cup that looked like an old fashioned medieval chalice. Made of silver, unadorned and shined to a brilliant finish, Miyu assumed the cup contained the wine mixture for the ceremony. What other kind of vessel would one expect for a ritual libation?

"What is it?" Kuki inquired with evident suspicion.

He took the cup from the woman when she held it out toward Miyu. He sniffed the contents, taking a sip.

"It's warmed red wine infused with cinnamon, ginger, and myrrh. It's medicinal. It's not poison," Eliza laughed off handedly.

"I know. I'm just curious," he murmured, passing the cup to Miyu.

Miyu knew he was more than just curious. He really had been checking the drink for poison. Her belly tightened with apprehension. Did he sense something she could not because they were hiding it from her?

She swirled the burgundy liquid that resembled blood around in the cup. Afterwards, she tipped the cup toward her nose inhaling deeply to take in the intoxicating scent of the alcohol mixed with the fragrant spices and medicinal oil.

 _Here goes everything,_ she thought to herself, taking a hearty sip. The drink burned her raw throat before heating her entire body as it flowed into her belly.

"Your ceremonial gown is on the dresser, Miyu," Eliza announced before turning her attention to Kuki. "There is a set of clothes for you as well. They're on the bed. We assume you will be taking part in the ceremony. You are her mate, aren't you?"

Miyu hid her smile by tipping up the chalice to drink when Kuki's eyes latched onto her face. She did not especially care for the word mate which hinted at her feral nature like she was a mere beast and at the mercy of her carnal desires. However, she did like the idea they were being viewed as a couple, given to one another though not married.

"Well, I uh..." He hesitated, clearing his throat.

He visibly floundered for the correct answer as not to offend Miyu since the word mate was used but without denying their couple status. She had never seen him so flustered. Allowing him to grow more ill at ease until his face turned such a deep shade of red he was almost purple, she decided to come to his rescue.

"Yes," she answered bluntly, confidently.

"I thought so. Well, I'll leave you two to finish getting ready," Eliza said, disappearing from their sight.

Kuki exhaled a noisy sigh of relief. Miyu giggled while finishing off the wine.

"You're mean," he hissed, splashing water in her face.

She laughed again, wiping the water out of her eyes with her water puckered fingers. Time to get out especially since she was feeling a little lightheaded. The wine hit her like a sucker punch making her feel a bit loopy. She felt comfortably numb, the pain in her stomach was gone.

"You should get out," he suggested.

"Help me?" she requested, setting the empty cup on the edge of the tub.

Miyu held up her arms like a child waiting for him to lift her out which he did by leaning over to enclose her upper body with his arms to pull her to her feet. She twisted her arms tightly around his neck giving him no choice but to pick her up into a bridal carry to lift her up and out of the tub.

"Mmmm," she hummed as he rubbed her down with a fluffy towel to dry her off. "You're going to spoil me."

"Nothing wrong with that," he said, leading her to the bedroom.

Another silver goblet full of the wine mixture waited on the dresser next to a pile of silky black material. Kuki picked up the gown unfolding it to see it would barely cover anything.

"You're going to freeze," he muttered, staring disapprovingly at the outfit.

"Trust me. I won't feel a thing," she assured him, picking up the cup.

"Hmph," he grunted.

Miyu reluctantly put down the chalice, raising her arms up for him to pull the gown over her head. The satiny material felt cool and soft as it drifted down her body. Although the skirt fell to her ankles, it was slit up both sides to her thighs. The top tied around her neck, open in a deep v down to her waist and open across the back.

"Whoa, this is something else," she mumbled into the cup, her words slurring slightly. "Man, this is some strong stuff."

"Are you okay?" He turned to dress in the white linen clothing that had been laid out on the bed for him.

"I'm just fine. Well, that's not fair," she huffed when he was finished dressing.

A pair of loose pants and an oversized long sleeved shirt comprised his outfit yet she was nearly naked.

"It's time to go!" Mitch Garrison yelled from downstairs, his strong voice virtually shaking the rafters of the house.

"It's time to go," Kuki repeated, taking the cup from her and setting it on the dresser. "Are you scared?"

"Yeah," she admitted, hooking her arm through his for him to escort her downstairs.

"Don't worry. I'll be there. Should anything go wrong, I'll protect you."

"I know." She kissed his cheek. "You're my hero."

"I've never been anyone's hero," he scoffed.

"No? Well, maybe not until now. But you're my hero. Don't you ever forget that Kuki Urie."


	24. Last Rites

I apologize in advance for any errors, whether spelling or grammatical that I did not catch. This was a particularly difficult chapter to write. I actually scrapped two drafts and started over completely twice. This is the third and final draft with lots of editing. I've wrote and rewrote, read and reread until all of the words are running together and look the same. I hope it all turned out okay in the end. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy.

By the way, thank you to SaberNymph and Krusty Cheetahs for the recent reviews. I was ready to give up and quit writing this story because it seemed no one liked it or cared to read it any longer. Thanks to everyone who reviewed in the past as well. Forgive me for not letting you know how much I appreciated your reviews and acknowledgement. Thank you to the followers as well.

So with all of that being said, on with the chapter...

* * *

"Time to go!" Mitch Garrison yelled from downstairs, projecting his deep voice through the house until the windows rattled in their panes.

"Good, God," Miyu gasped, almost dropping the half full cup of wine.

Kuki took the goblet from her. Before setting it down on the dresser, he finished off the wine. Something about the event to come set every nerve in his body on edge.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked Miyu.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. When she opened them, her warm amber irises had come alight as if the wine had kindled an inner spark inside of her. Her lips stretched into a pleasant smile that helped ease his apprehension. No matter what happened tonight, she would be just fine.

"I'm ready," she stated resolutely.

"Let's go before the thunder god yells again," he joked, holding out his hand for her.

"I thought he was Captain America," she shot back.

Kuki loved her quick wit. He had missed her wry sense of humor the last few weeks as her health deteriorated. When she took his hand, Kuki squeezed her icy fingers to reassure her. He pulled her forward, kissing her lips, tasting the spiced wine on them. Lightheaded, he rocked back on his heels.

"Are you okay?" Miyu asked, her eyebrows drawing together with concern.

"I'm fine. You just have that affect on me," he said, slipping her arm through his to escort her downstairs.

"Well, well, the Princess has arrived," her father announced as they made their way down the stairway.

"Oh, Dad," she huffed, rolling her eyes.

Mitch Garrison was also dressed in one of the loose white linen outfits. Apparently this was the official ceremonial dress which made Kuki wonder if all of the women were dressed like Miyu.

He did not have to wonder long when the front door opened to reveal Eliza and three other women standing on the front porch. They were all covered head to toe in burgundy cloaks that dragged the wooden planks, the big hoods covering their faces. From under the hoods, he could see the yellow of their eyes glowing softly. The color reminded him of the color of caution lights on traffic signals. Proceed carefully.

The women turned away to descend the steps to the rock path, their hands held palms together in front of their chests as if they were praying. They began chanting as they moved forward with Eliza in the front to lead the small processional to the ritual site.

In the middle of the little village a massive bonfire burned, illuminating the night sky with a reddish glow. Women dressed in white gossamer gowns styled like the one Miyu wore danced around the fire. They waved branches of burning sage that filled the air with a white, fragrant smoke creating a cloud which gave the scene a surreal appearance.

Everyone else sat on the ground in a larger ring encompassing the fire and the dancers. An adults only affair, not a single small child or even a teenager were in attendance.

Dr. Vida Burrell sat on a pallet of blankets propped up by stacks of pillows behind her back and around her sides. She massaged her belly while talking to the woman sitting beside her. The woman placed her hand on Vida's distended abdomen then nodded giving the impression of being the midwife and that Vida was in labor. Why the woman at the ceremony if her baby was on the way?

Everett Burrell, her gargantuan husband, stood behind her. Rather than being attentive to his wife, his eyes darted around carefully observing each person in turn. When his eyes spotted the small processional walking toward the fire, he craned his neck, swaying back and forth, until he could see Miyu through the group of shrouded women.

Kuki felt Miyu tighten her arm around his, pressing his upper arm between her breasts as she pushed her body into his. He placed his hand over hers, patting it to reassure her. A shiver ran through her body vibrating him all the way to his insides. He could not be sure if she was nervous or cold. Most likely both.

The women in front of them chanted louder, their voices creating a low, static hum. More voices began to join in when they reached the group. People separated to create a gap in the circle for them to walk through before moving back to close the space.

"The circle shall remain unbroken," the two men who had moved apart said as if to undo any perceived damage by breaking formation.

The chanting transformed into singing as the others joined in, many voices combining to make a lilting harmony almost like a lullaby.

Kuki could not understand the words because they were foreign to him, most likely from an ancient language dead to the rest of the world carried through the centuries in their traditions. Suddenly he felt like an interloper as if he had stumbled across some arcane ritual not meant for those who were not part of this clandestine colony.

Breathing became difficult, the air thick and heavy. Gravity seemed to change too, pressing down on him. He felt like he was under water and drowning. The singing grew louder, deafening. Everything in his vision blurred and wavered like heat waves rising from the pavement in summer.

Miyu was pulled away from him. He reached for her, teetering uncertainly before falling to his knees. He continued falling forward, putting out his hands to land on all fours to avoid planting his face into the brown crunchy grass. Raising his head took effort but he needed to know where Miyu had been taken.

The women had removed their cloaks and encompassed her, holding hands as they continued their incantations as if performing a magic spell. Miyu attempted to break the circle but the women's arms would not budge to allow her to pass. They began to shove her like schoolyard bullies, bumping her back and forth among them by using their linked arms like a slingshot.

"Stop." Instead of yelling, the word weakly eeked out of Kuki's mouth barely above a whisper. "What are you doing to her?"

Eliza broke the circle but the remaining women held hands to mend it. She walked over to Kuki, bending down in front of him to speak.

"You should have never come here. You don't belong here. You are an outsider. We practice the ancient ways of our pagan ancestors. We are the children of the earth goddess and gods of the mountains. Your interference will not be tolerated," she hissed, withdrawing a small crooked dagger from the pouch at her waist.

"What are you doing?" Mitch demanded, coming to stand next to Kuki. He reached down to lift the floundering man to his feet, holding him up.

"He shouldn't be here, Mitch," she said, tucking the little knife back into the pouch.

"I allowed him to stay for Miyu's sake. She needs him. Go finish the ritual, Eliza," he commanded her.

Anger laced with pure hatred flashed in her eyes as she glowered at her husband. Nodding dutifully, she stood up and returned to her ring.

"What's going on? Why do I feel so weak?" Kuki asked Mitch.

"Did you drink the wine?" he inquired.

"Yes."

"Dammit. There was a potion in there to weaken Miyu, to make her body and spirit more accepting so she would not resist the cleansing."

"Are you sure about that? Sure it wasn't poison? Besides, why was that necessary?"

"I-I d-don't kn-know," Mitch stuttered uncertainly, his eyes going to his wife. "I'm afraid I don't know about these things. They're always handled by the women."

"How much do you trust your wife?" Kuki asked him.

"Well, I - "

Before he could answer, Miyu screamed. She dropped to her knees, her chin falling against her chest. She stayed in a kneeling position, not moving a muscle.

Everything stopped. All movement and sound ceased. An eerie stillness settled over the group of people. Only the pop and crackle of burning wood disturbed the ever thickening atmosphere.

Miyu slowly raised her face toward the moon. Her white skin was tinted blue from the muted light of the moon, mirroring its image like the moon mirrored the sun. Her lips slid back from her teeth revealing elongated canine teeth on top and bottom. The nails on her hands had extended into thick, black claws that dug into the earth at her knees where her fingers curled against the grass. She had not grown a snout or fur but she definitely looked like a wolf.

So this was it. This was the part of her she had been so afraid of showing him. He had seen far worse and a whole lot uglier when fighting transformed ghouls.

Kuki held his breath as her fangs gradually separated when she opened her mouth. His entire body winced in response to the loud howl ejected from her gaping maw. The sound made his insides quake and his ears hurt but he could not raise his arms to block out the noise by covering his ears with his hands.

When Miyu ceased baying at the moon, soft grunts and groans could be heard coming Vida. The midwife had positioned herself between the woman's legs. The time had come for the baby to born. Rather than staying with his wife, Everett stealthily slipped around the outer edge of the large circle.

 _What is he doing?,_ Kuki contemplated, keeping his bleary eyes on the man.

The infernal chanting started again in the small circle. Other voices joined in, the sound growing louder. Singing and chanting simultaneously, voices chasing each other in a roundabout, the words and melodies tripping and falling over one another to create a maddening cacophony.

Paralyzed, unable to move or speak, Kuki observed her body convulse before she offered another bone rattling yowl to the moon. He felt himself being lowered to the ground by her father as Everett appeared and ducked under the arms of two of the women, penetrating the ring without breaking it. A flash of moonlight glinted silver off the blade of the dagger when Everett withdrew it from the pouch at Eliza's waist.

Kuki tried to move again, to activate his kakugan. Pain sliced through his brain, making his vision darken as if a shade had been drawn over his eyes. A dull throbbing was left behind, and he was sure he could feel his brain pulsating in his skull. He fell forward, his face hitting the soft grass and releasing the verdant scent of the tender green shoots hiding underneath being crushed beneath his cheek.

Kuki blinked, his vision slowly clearing. He saw Everett pick Miyu up from the ground, her body limp and lifeless as if she were a rag-doll - or dead. He could see her ghostly pale face as the man held her against his body, her back to his chest.

Miyu lifted her head, barely able to move. Sedated by the drugged wine no doubt. Unable to offer an real resistance against the man who held a knife to her neck, she halfheartedly clawed at his arm with long black nails hardly scratching him. Everett whispered in her ear, and she grimaced.

Miyu went limp, her body sliding from Everett's grasp. On her knees in front of him, she punched him in the knee, breaking his kneecap as evidenced by the resounding crack echoing through the air. He yowled in pain, releasing a sound very much like the howl she had unleashed earlier, as he fell to the ground onto his good knee. Jumping to her feet, she was as tall as the man kneeling in front of her.

With one of his massive bear like hands, Everett slapped her, knocking her out of the ring but not breaking the bond of the women's clutched hands.

Miyu landed on her back with an audible 'oof' when the air was pushed from her lungs. She struggled to push herself up before dropping back into her prone position, sucking in air with raspy wheezing gasps.

"Stay down. Goddammit, Miyu, just stay down," Everett said to her as he crawled toward her.

Kuki fought against the crushing gravity pressing him into the grass. That damn chanting was driving him insane, creating a buzz in head that rattled his brain making it bounce around inside his skull. He placed his palms against the ground, pushing up. The muscles in his arms ached and burned. His arms shook then gave way as if an invisible hand smashed him back down into the grass.

Why the hell wasn't any of these other people doing anything to help? Maybe they were paralyzed and incapacitated like him, unable to move due to the spell being cast by the succubi forming the dark prayer circle. They might be summoning the power of their precious mystical predecessors to keep the onlookers still. Or perhaps the members of the colony willingly stood by, bound by loyalty which prevented them from interfering.

If Kuki were a normal person, he would be shocked and awed by this freaky spectacle of magic and witchcraft. Yet he already knew there were things beyond human understanding because he had become one of those things when he opted to become a ghoul. Although his departure from being a plain man came by way of mad science and hers by centuries of occultic knowledge and breeding, he still did not find himself astounded and overwhelmed by the preternatural happenings here.

"Everett! The baby's coming! Free the guardian spirit," Vida yowled, adding to the insanity of the situation.

"I'm sorry, Miyu," Everett apologized, holding the knife to Miyu's throat. The moonlight turned the tears gathering at the corner of his eyes into shiny pearls while luminescence of a brilliant blue light covered the deep black irises.

"I'm sorry too," she apologized. Her voice sounded deep, somewhat masculine, reverberating as if another voice had been transposed over hers.

Everett pressed the knife to Miyu's throat, but she kicked up her leg. Her knee hit him in the back of the head to send him flying over her to land on his belly like a seal. Rising onto all fours, spinning around on one knee, he grabbed her throat with a single hand, squeezing. Standing up, he lifted her from the ground using his one hand around her neck.

 _Dammit this is infuriating!,_ Kuki seethed inwardly, unable to move to go to her. _Why the fuck won't my body move?!_

Miyu's legs flailed pitifully in the air, almost comically if the situation had been different. Finally, she gathered her scattered wits, kicking forward with purpose and striking Everett in the chest. He stumbled back a few steps but did not fall or let her go.

Everett growled, the sound a deep rumbling from his chest. His lips separated showing his fangs. His long black talons bit into the tender skin of her neck. Rivulets of ruby red blood flowed down her neck as the sharp nails pierced her delicate skin.

"Everett! Kill her!" ordered Vida.

Fury erupted inside of Kuki, sending him to his feet. Pushing through the gravity threatening to compress him into the earth and the pain about to grind his brain into a pile of mush, he crawled toward her. He cried out from the excruciating pain but pushed forward anyway, each movement draining his already depleted strength.

Kuki incited his kakugan, feeling the veins rise around his eyes as adrenaline infused blood flooded the area turning his iris from slate gray to blood red and his sclera to a black as dark as the night sky above. The pain returned to savagely stab his brain repeatedly, but he didn't care. He needed to get to her. A wet warmth trickled from his nose and his eyes, and he tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

"What the hell are you doing, Eliza?!" Mitch bellowed.

"Miyu must die! It has to be done! We have to take back the guardian to protect us!" Eliza shrilled, withdrawing another dagger from her pouch.

Mitch grabbed his wife, snatching her away from the circle of women. He shook her by the shoulders, yelling her name repeatedly in her face until the hazy gray shield turning her eyes a milky, sickly yellow cleared. Suddenly it was as if the spell they had cast was shattered.

"I told you not to interfere," Eliza snarled.

"No, don't!" Kuki shouted when the woman thrust the knife into her husband's belly. He turned to assist his soon to be father-in-law. "NO!"

"Her!" Mitch yelled, pointing at Miyu. "Go to her!"

Kuki could move freely, swiftly since the pain had vanished and the crushing pressure lifted. But it was too little too late. He ran toward Everett, but he was not going to make it.

"Kill her, you stupid oaf! Now!" Vida shrieked.

Kuki lunged toward Everett as he dragged the knife across Miyu's throat. Ruby red blood appeared in a straight line across the delicate ivory skin of her tender neck.

"No! NO!" Kuki yelled, seizing the man's hand. "You bastard!"

He watched helplessly as she crumpled to the ground. Fear rushed a second shot of adrenaline through his system. Fueled by his mounting anger, he squeezed Everett's wrist hearing the unmistakable sound of cracking bone then feeling the unpleasant grinding as the shattered bones rubbed together.

Everett howled in agony making an ear shattering sound not unlike the one Miyu had unleashed earlier. Vida screamed, punctuating the confusing racket with her high pitched shriek.

"Everett! Something is wrong!" the midwife shouted over the din of noise. "The baby isn't coming."

Everett glanced down at Miyu then at Kuki.

"Take care of her. She's not dead," he stated flatly before going to his laboring wife.

Kuki dropped to his knees beside Miyu, lifting her upper body with an arm behind her shoulders. He carefully tilted back her head to examine her throat.

Although difficult to determine the extent of the wound through the blood, he could tell it had already stopped bleeding. Wiping away the blood with the sleeve of his shirt, he could then see that it was only a superficial cut. Everett had purposely cut through the skin only deep enough to nick the veins but staying away from the arteries. The man never meant to kill her at all.

"Kuki?" Her eyes popped open. Her teeth had shrunk back to their normal size. "What happened?" she inquired, blinking in confusion.

"Oh, god, Miyu," Kuki sighed in relief, pressing his forehead to her cheek as he gather her into his arms.

A scream, sharp and long, pierced the cold night air and his eardrums, sending a bone chilling shudder down his spine. That was no mere cry resulting from labor pains. The cry had been a combination of physical pain, emotional betrayal, and the resignation to oncoming death.

Then another cry filled the air: the mewling cries of a newborn child. The sound of innocence and new life cleaned the tainted air, whisking away the stench of treachery and malice, lifting the oppressive atmosphere. The clear, cool night transformed into a celebration of life and renewal like it should have been.

Miyu panted in Kuki's arms, inhaling the brisk, cleansing air still scented with the sage meant to remove all evil and negative energy. At last, for lack of a better term, the bad vibes were gone.

"Vida's dying," Mitch announced, coming to stand over his daughter. "And thankfully, you are not."

"Dad - " She began, her voice faltering when she saw the blood seeping through his fingers pressed to the center of his abdomen. "Dad! What happened?"

Kuki assisted Miyu to her feet. He silently watched as she hugged her father then checked the wound on his belly through the tear in his shirt.

"It's not bad. I'll be fine. My body is already healing. We should get you to the house," he said, pushing the loose strands of hair away from her face. "How do you feel?"

"All things considered," she sighed, looking up at him with a smile, "pretty good. I don't feel like I'm dying anymore."

"Good," he sighed, bending down to kiss her forehead. He hissed from the pain when his contracting abdominal muscles pulled at the edges of the stab wound.

"I have to go to Vida. I need to help her cross over," Miyu said.

"What? What are you - " Kuki tried to interrupt but her father placed a hand on his chest, shaking his head as he met his gaze.

"Another one of our traditions. A death rite. Like the Catholics and the blessing given by the priest over a dying person to send them to heaven," her father explained.

"Couldn't Everett perform the rite?"

"Yes, but sometimes watching poetic justice in action is satisfying. Don't you think so?"

Kuki could not disagree. He watched as Miyu went to Vida, kneeling beside her. He could see Everett stolidly sitting beside his dying wife holding their child protectively. The man had slit open the woman's belly to save his child. Sometimes unpleasant sacrifices had to be made to preserve life.

Miyu's teeth extended into fangs before she lowered her mouth to the woman's neck. Vida gasped, her half closed eyes widening into great big circles. Her yellow irises filled with terror and agony. Her mouth opened as if she intended to scream but no sound came forth. The radiant amber glow faded until all the light, her life force itself, was extinguished.

Miyu carefully lowered the dead woman back onto the pillows, covering her body including her face with the quilt that had been draped across her legs.

"Thank you," Everett murmured, holding his daughter wrapped in a hand knit pink blanket close to his chest.

Miyu nodded without saying a word, rising to her feet to walk away. Kuki did not like the expression in her eyes. Their golden light was icy, devoid of the warmth and kindness he was accustomed to seeing there. There was no remorse, no anger, no emotion of any kind.

"We should go to the house," she said, her voice as bereft of emotion as her eyes.

As they were walking away, Kuki noticed Eliza lying still on the ground. Her tousled blond hair splayed around her head like an indecent golden halo. Her head lay tilted at an obscene angle, her eyes staring unblinking at the moon. A small trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth was the only other indication that an act of impassioned violence had ended her life.

Kuki could only guess that it was Mitch Garrison himself who had killed the woman in retaliation for trying to murder his daughter. Drastic events had driven these men to kill their wives.

He gulped as he glanced at Miyu's ramrod straight back while she walked ahead of him. Could he ever do the same to her should dire circumstances arise? What would constitute such an extreme event he would have to do such a terrible thing? Hopefully he would never have to know.

"So what now?" Kuki queried as they entered the house.

"Miyu, go upstairs and take a shower," her father gently ordered her.

"O-okay," she stammered, wanting to question him but not doing so due to the firm but kind insistence in his voice.

Kuki watched her as she padded soundlessly up the wooden stairs. He assumed the man wanted to talk to him about a serious subject since he sent his daughter away so quickly.

"Come with me," Mitch said, walking toward the kitchen.

This reminded Kuki of the first night night they met. A nervous flutter made his tummy ripple, but he took a cue from Miyu and complied without argument. She had always been incredibly smart and intuitive in that respect, knowing when and how to pick her battles.

"Tonight we're going to wash off this shit and try to get past what happened here," Mitch proclaimed, as much for his own benefit as Kuki's. "We're going to get a good night's sleep and wake up tomorrow to face another day with smiles on our faces."

That statement meant a lot coming from the man who would have to explain to his children why their mother was dead. Also he somehow had the feeling Mitch would be saying good-bye to his oldest child permanently after this catastrophic event that could tear apart his colony.

"Okay. That sounds reasonable. I completely agree," Kuki said.

Mitch Garrison set out the various implements to employ the pour over method for brewing coffee his daughter favored. Obviously they viewed the meticulous, unnecessarily laborious method as calming, seeking comfort in the carefully measured steps.

At the moment, Kuki Urie took comfort in it as well having seen Miyu perform the fussy practice many times; more than he could count at this point in their relationship.

"You two should leave as soon as possible. For her safety," Mitch said, handing Kuki a cup of black coffee.

"I couldn't agree more."

Mitch sighed loudly. He took a sip of his coffee from his world's best dad mug. The weirdness and irony of it all made Kuki want to laugh, but he pushed down the urge because laughter would be incredibly inappropriate at this time.

"I don't say these words lightly, but she should never come back here. I will miss her. She is my first baby girl after all," he said, his voice echoing the sadness evident on his wan face.

"Speaking of baby girls, what will happen to Vida and Everett's baby?" Kuki inquired.

"Everett will raise her. With the help of everyone in the colony. It takes a village they say," he murmured as if deep in thought.

"What the hell happened out there tonight, Mitch?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. My best guess would be that Vida was attempting a soul transference."

"What does that mean?"

"She was attempting to steal Miyu's very soul, her thoughts and emotions...the essence of her very being, to implant it into her child. She wanted the guardian spirit," Mitch said, refilling their cups from the decanter full of coffee.

"Yeah," Kuki muttered, burying his nose in the steam of his cup. The aroma of the coffee pushed away the nausea bubbling up inside of him. "What was the point of Miyu sucking Vida's blood to end her life?"

"She drained Vida of all the negative emotions eating her up inside. The animosity, the spitefulness, all of the things that had darkened and tainted her spirit."

Kuki gasped in astonished recognition when the flashes of Miyu's past she had shared with him through telepathy returned to him. The sight of her wolf like teeth, the wound on Kaneki's neck, the blood. She had attacked him attempting to suck out all the bad that had been instilled in him. She tried to remove the murderous intent, the blind fury, the hatred and vengeance that drove him.

Her efforts had enabled Kaneki, although only for a short time, to become the gentle and kind investigator Haise Sasaki. In that moment she had buried Ken Kaneki under layers of contrived emotions and memories. That was also the exact same moment, Kaneki had tried to kill her to prevent her from destroying him completely.

Vida, however, had been given no choice but to die. Yet in the end, it was the woman's own fault she had met such a tragic and pointless demise.

"Fuck," Kuki muttered under his breath. He then realized her father was still talking.

"She did so that Vida's spirit would not be cursed to wander the earth forever," her father was saying.

"Like a ghost?" he asked, pretending he had been paying attention instead of making a revelation about Miyu's past and her ties to Ken Kaneki. His understanding of the situation was deeper and less trifling than he put on.

"Oversimplified in terms, but yes," her father affirmed, pausing to drink his coffee. "Don't worry about Miyu. She'll be fine. Her body will heal itself. I'm sure she's up there throwing up all that bad shit now."

"What about her emotional state?" Kuki asked. "I don't like what I saw in her eyes afterward."

Mitch set his cup down on the counter, staring at Kuki.

"What did you see?"

"Nothing. That was the problem. She should have been sad. In the past, she would have cried. Guilt would have eaten her alive. Like you said, she has always felt things so deeply. Even killing a bug could bring her to tears," Kuki said.

No longer would he laugh at her when she burst into tears after smashing a roach with the newspaper. He regretted ever doing so at this time. She was never weak or silly. She simply felt too much, and sometimes those feelings became more than she could handle. But tonight she had felt nothing at all, and that disturbed him.

"She was just numb. That's all. Her mind was doing what it needed to do to save itself from insanity. Don't worry. She'll be fine come tomorrow," Mitch assured Kuki. "But in the future, she will require an anchor, a heart to return to so she can regain her emotional center. That is where you will come in. Tell me again, do you love her?"

"We've been over this."

"Remind me," Mitch insisted gruffly. "Make me believe it."

"Yes. I love her."

"Do you accept her? Every part of her? Even the parts that scare the hell out of you?"

"Yes," Kuki answered quickly and easily.

"How can you be so sure? I can see in your eyes you're still struggling to come to terms with what you witnessed tonight," Mitch accused, challenging him with his direct eye contact.

"Yes, I am still struggling to make sense of _everything_ I saw tonight," he confessed. _A lot_ had occurred in the short span of time. "But I love her and accept every part of her. I can say those words with all confidence because, sir, she knew everything about me and loved me anyway. She knew the monster inside of me but accepted it even before she said hello. That means everything in the world to me and is what made me love her in the first place." Kuki paused to take a steadying breath. "Yes, I'm confused and frankly, a little bit frightened because I discovered a part of her that is not so different than the ghoul inside of me. Maybe that's what bothers the most. She's not as different from me as I had once thought."

"Okay then. You are a good man, Kuki Urie. I give you my daughter to love and protect for the rest of your life."

"Are you giving us your blessing to get married?"

"It's more than a blessing, son. I'm declaring you married to my daughter, Kuki Urie...in my eyes and the eyes of her people."

"Wait...what?" His muddled mind fought to catch up with the fast moving chain of events, to comprehend what had just happened.

"Congratulations."

"Won't she be angry this took place without her consent?" Kuki asked.

"Most likely. But she'll be okay. As I'm sure you've learned, sometimes that stubborn woman needs to be pushed into doing what's good for her. I'm sure she loves you too. So what's the problem?"

Once again, Kuki could not disagree with the man. Although they had not spent much time together, Mitch Garrison knew his daughter amazingly well.

"How are you going to tell her?" he questioned the man.

"Me? But you should tell her," her father countered in a somewhat juvenile manner.

"Tell me what?" Miyu inquired, entering the back of the kitchen while dabbing her sopping wet hair with a towel.

"I'm off to take a shower," Kuki announced.

He bounced off the bar stool, abandoning his half full cup of coffee in favor of a quick retreat. He dropped a kiss on Miyu's cheek as he scooted past her.

"Your father has an important matter to discuss with you," he informed her, hurrying up the back stairs.

"What's up, Dad?" she queried casually.

"Well, baby, the thing is..." Mitch's words trailed off.

Kuki heard Miyu's infuriated scream of 'what?!' as he closed the bedroom door behind him. That was not the first time he had dropped a metaphorical bomb and ran.

Haise would have fussed at him for shirking responsibility then running away like an emotionally immature kid expecting someone else to take care of the problem. He had done just that when Urie dumped hundreds of dollars of taxi receipts on his desk expecting to be reimbursed. Urie had a valid reason for spending that money to further the investigation of a serial killer ghoul. He never did get reimbursed. And now Sasaki was gone.

Kuki leaned against the bathroom door, sighing sadly. Sometimes he missed the goody two shoes he had known as Haise Sasaki.

Thankfully, once again, Miyu had managed to survive when someone attempted to take her life. How many more times before her luck ran out? He would do his damnedest to never find out. He wanted his wife with him always.

 _His wife._ He liked the sound of that.


	25. Forever Love

"Married! Really?! Dad, how could you?!" Miyu whined like an angst ridden adolescent, not acting her age at all.

She looked much younger as well with no make up on, cheeks flushed, and dripping wet hair styled in the fashion of a drowned rat's. Wearing a baby blue tank top and pink pajama shorts decorated with cupcakes covered in blue icing and sprinkles only furthered the image. Her foot clad in a fuzzy pink slipper stomped the floor impatiently as she waited for him to say something.

Her father found it difficult to take her seriously which showed when he covered his mouth with his hand to hide his wide grin. A snort and a giggle eeked out from behind his palm as he fought the urge to laugh. At least she could still make him laugh after the recent clusterfuck of epic proportions.

"I remember the first time you visited here you looked something like this. You were only a teenager, a mere child. My baby," he said, smiling broadly at her. Tears twinkled in his eyes.

"Dad, I'm still mad at you," she pouted, folding her arms over her chest. "How could you perform a sacred marriage bond without me even being present? Who does that?! Don't you think I should have had a say in the matter?"

"Oh, bullshit, Miyu. Stop," he commanded her, pulling her into his arms for a bear hug. "You love that boy. You both are so stupid and stubborn about this love thing I thought I'd help you out. Why, if I hadn't taken matters into my own hands, you'd be one of those irritating couples who would date or stay engaged for twenty years before getting married. Besides, I know you two having been doing things only married people should be doing."

"Dad!" she exclaimed, kicking him in the shin.

Mitch Garrison laughed uproariously, squeezing his daughter until she couldn't breath.

"Don't tell me you and mom waited to do it before you got married. I'm sure that only added to the scandal of the half breed you two had made," she sighed.

"Hey," he murmured, lifting her chin with his forefinger underneath to make her look at him. "Don't be mean at a time like this."

Her eyes met his brilliant blue ice irises. She returned his smile that was happy and sad all at once.

"You're the best damn thing that ever happened to me. My only regret is that I wasn't a bigger part of your life," he said, pulling her close for another heartfelt embrace. "I regret letting your mother go without a fight."

"That wasn't your fault," she said with conviction.

She knew exactly who orchestrated getting rid of her mother thanks to the memories she soaked up from Eliza. But delving into the past was not warranted at the moment. Enough new wounds had been created tonight.

"I have something for you. Wait here." His arms reluctantly dropped from around her and he walked out of the kitchen.

"Oh, god, what a night," she muttered to herself, going to the refrigerator.

There was a bottle of white wine in the door and a pitcher of iced coffee on the shelf. Decisions, decisions. She fixed herself an iced black coffee. Idly walking around the kitchen, she glanced at the reminders of Eliza. The monogrammed dishtowels. The knitted potholders. The wine glass beside the sink bearing the red print of her lipstick.

"Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry," she sighed, wishing she had opted for the wine.

Where the hell did he go? she contemplated, sitting on a bar stool to drink her coffee. Her legs hurt. Her head ached. Every heartbeat caused her pain. She tried not to think about what happened. The wine would have been a much better option. The whole damn bottle. Something to numb the pain.

"Sorry," Mitch apologized, walking back into the kitchen with a plain, square brown box. "It took me a while to find this."

Miyu looked at him, then at the box. She set her glass down so she could lift off the lid. Inside was a mask carved from jet black ebony wood and polished to a shiny finish. It bore the likeness of Anubis, the canine headed Egyptian god who escorted souls to the afterlife.

She almost laughed at the irony that the representative god of the guardian was Anubis. After all, her position with the CCG had been to dispatch the souls of ghouls to the afterlife. She had been the exterminator. The investigators could capture and retain. Her job was only to kill without question. She issued a despondent sigh.

Reaching into the box, she carefully lifted out the mask. It was surprisingly heavy. The eye-holes had been cut overly large to permit the wearer to see, even in the periphery, unobstructed. Her fingers trembled as she traced the tall pointed ears and the long canine snout. Every single tooth had been crafted with great detail, including the elongated upper and lower fangs. The lips were separated, receding from the teeth in an eternal, vicious snarl. Adjustable leather straps fitting over the entire crown of the head had been added to the mask some point during use to make the fit more secure. Although no art or archaeological expert, she could tell this mask was an ancient relic so she doubted the straps were a part of the original design.

"The mask belonged to our ancestors. It was made for the first guardian and has been worn until the last century. It hid the identity of the guardian. To protect them from humans. And their own, should anyone try to usurp the power of the spirit," Mitch looked away from his daughter, wiping the corner of his eye. When he turned back to her, his eyes were bloodshot and watery. "You should have this. I think you're going to need it."

"Dad, I - "

"Baby, please," he murmured, placing his big hand on her shoulder. "I love you, Miyu. Don't ever forget that. However, I think our people have strayed too far from our roots and have forgotten our beginnings. We got too close to humans, tried too hard to be like them. I always believed we were superior to humans so there was no need to kill them. Hell," he scoffed, scrubbing his hands over his face after a tear slid from the inner corner of his eyes. "I even fell in love with one. Seems like others in our ranks had different ideas...that humans should go extinct. We're paying the price for their arrogance. We must change again."

"What are you getting at, Dad?" She could tell he was leading up to something she was not going to like.

"I'm not sure what is going to happen now, but I do know we have to leave this place. I need to move the colony. We need to find a new place, away from the terrible memories here and the corrupt spirits. I have to find a home with new, clean, untainted energy and spiritual power."

"I understand. Our memories and emotions are everything to us. They're as important as the air we breathe," she mumbled as if thinking aloud.

"They give us life," he agreed. "Besides, we stayed here too long. We were meant to be wanderers. Always moving, changing. Experiencing new places and people. We became complacent. Stagnant. The spirits surrounding us became defiled, contaminated. We poisoned ourselves."

"Dad, when will I see you again? Please, say I'll see you again," she begged, sniffing back her tears.

Mitch smiled through his tears, leaving them unchecked to run down his bronzed cheeks. He took both of her hands between his, squeezing them as he met her beseeching eyes.

"I love you, baby. Some kinds of love are eternal. Distance won't mean I won't love you anymore. It never has," he scoffed, giving her a toothy grin beneath the tide of tears. "I still love your mother. Time, her death, not even Eliza could destroy it. Hold onto the love you have with Kuki. Cherish it. Nourish it. Make it grow. Go back to Tokyo. Be a wife. Be a mother. Be whatever you want to be, but most of all be happy. Live like tomorrow doesn't exist, and love like there's an eternity before you."

"Dad, those are the most amazing words you've ever said to me" she giggled, joy spilling into her sorrow. Happy and unhappy tears streamed from her eyes. "Dammit. You made me cry."

"I'm sure it's not the first time. I'm so sorry. If only I had..." His words trailed off, saturated with a devastating despair that stabbed her heart like a knife. He pulled her forward to place a kiss on her forehead. "You should go to bed. You need sleep."

"I love you, Dad," she sniffed, suddenly too exhausted to argue. She stood up, enveloping her father in a bone crushing hug.

Miyu wiped away her tears with the back of her hand as she trudged up the back stairs to her bedroom. She was glad to see Kuki was still awake. He sat propped up in the bed shirtless, which was unusual for him. Typically he wore a full set of pajamas whether it be a button down shirt and matching pants set or a plain t-shirt and sleep pants. The cover gathered so low on his hips she wondered if he was naked.

"Are you okay?" he asked, setting the book he had been reading on the nightstand.

"Yeah. I'm - " She tried to say fine, but it wouldn't come out because she was anything but fine. "It's just been a really rough night."

"That's an understatement," he muttered. "Tell me one thing...what were you thinking after killing Vida?"

"Vida was already dying," she corrected him, blood rising to her face from humiliation and anger induced by her remorse. "I simply gave her the send off she needed for her soul to find eternal rest."

"Your father explained that. I'm asking because I didn't like the look in your eyes afterward. It was as if all of your emotions had died too. I was frightened by that look."

"I-I was n-numb, th-that's all," she stammered. "I couldn't handle all of the emotions, all the memories. Kuki, I can't..." She paused after her voice broke. "I don't want to discuss that right now. I'm feeling...I'm feeling too much, but I can't go numb."

Miyu stood there, staring down at her hands, twiddling her thumbs like a nervous child. Her heart ached because she doubted she would ever see her father again. Her heart hurt for him. He had murdered his second wife who had betrayed him for her own selfish desires, not just once but many times. He still had to explain everything to their two children. As if all of that was not terrible enough, she would be disappearing out of his life just like her mother whom he had loved dearly. At least he had been able to bid her farewell.

"Miyu?"

Kuki extended his hand to her, and she immediately took it. Touching him made her fingertips tingle as if she was drawing strength from his body. She needed his strength more than ever at the moment because she had none of her own left.

"What is it?" He pulled her closer to the bed until she knelt on the mattress beside him.

"Tonight is definitely in the top five worst experiences of my life," she said, her voice cracking with the tears about to break the dam of her crumbling self-control to hold them back.

"What did your father say?"

"It's more about what he didn't say. We said a good-bye that felt permanent. I have this terrible feeling I'll never see him again." Her voice dissolved into a the sob that had been building in her constricted throat. "And it hurts." Her eyes met his that reflected her sadness, her tears. He was crying with her and for her. "Oh, Kuki, everything hurts."

"Let me make it better," he implored her, placing his hands on her hips.

Miyu straddled his hips when he urged her onto his lap. She inhaled sharply when his soft lips pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat. She raked the fingers of both hands through his silky hair as his lips explored her neck, discovering the most sensitive spots. Her fingers curled into the longer locks at the back of his head, pulling his mouth away from her.

The tiny gasp he emitted made her stomach tighten with excitement. Her mouth lowered to his exposed throat, pressing a kiss to his adam's apple which bobbed up and down under her lips. She dropped another kiss on the side of his neck. The throbbing artery pulsed faster under her tongue that darted out take a taste of his satiny soft skin. Inhaling deeply, she smelled pine, cinnamon, and snow; fresh, sweet, and clean scents with an underlying aroma of spicy cloves. A pleasant, enticing heat spread throughout her lower abdomen.

"Oh, god, Kuki," she exhaled, pursing her lips to kiss his neck again. "You smell amazing. I could eat you alive."

"Mmmm," he hummed deep in his chest. "Don't you think that's my line?"

"Not tonight."

Miyu kissed him, her tongue inviting his to play an arousing game of hide and seek. Her hands pressed to his chest, giving his pecs a squeeze before her palms flattened to touch more of his skin. Bending down, she dotted kisses over his chest between her splayed fingers. Her mouth sought his and found it, her lips pressing firmly, hungrily kissing him. Her hands slowly slid down his chest to his belly. Her fingers traced each hard line of his abdomen while she gave him short but ardent pecks on his lips and cheeks.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" he asked, speaking a singular word between each brush of her lips across his.

"Don't play innocent with me. What do you think I'm doing?" she questioned him in return. Her hand slid under the quilt, grasping his stiff member. She gasped and giggled. "Kuki Urie, you're naked." The impossibly rigid appendage twitched and moved on its own when she slid her hand up the shaft. "And you're so very happy to see me."

"I was waiting for you. It's our honeymoon after all," he said, enclosing her waist with his arms.

"It sure is."

Miyu laughed again when he held her tightly, rolling her over onto her back and lying on top of her. Her laughter morphed into a moan when his lips grazed her neck, his teeth nipping lightly at the sensitive skin. His tongue lapped over the superficial cut, creating a tantalizing prickle, tugging another moan from her. She raised her hips when his hand jammed into the top of her pajama shorts to push them down.

"What if someone hears?" he whispered, gliding into her.

"You didn't already think about that? It's a little late now," she whispered back.

Miyu bit her lower lip to withhold a chuckle when he pushed up her shirt, inadvertently tickling her in the process. Writhing under him, she whimpered and tugged his hair as his mouth suctioned itself to her nipple.

"Oh, you're a horrible man," she whispered, thrusting her hips under him, moving faster to tease him as well.

He released her nipple with a pop. Shoving into her hard, provoking her in the most sensual way, he playfully challenged, "Say it again. I dare you to tell me I'm horrible."

Miyu couldn't say anything. Pressing her hands to his cheeks, she brought his mouth to hers. She moaned into his mouth, effectively covering the noise of her pleasure as he plunged himself into her. Kuki's hand grasped the back of her neck, holding her mouth tightly over his as he groaned to express his own satisfaction. He slowed down to prevent bringing their lovemaking session to a fast end. She matched his deliberate movements, savoring every inch of him. She delighted in each pleasing little thrill that rushed through her body further heating her blood.

They needed the comfort generated by the close intimacy, the joining of their bodies and their spirits. In each other's arms, they were safe, protected. Their world built for two made everything better. She wanted to be with him like this forever. Forever happy. Always safe. When they were together, nothing and no one could hurt them. When their bodies and souls twined into one, they were enclosed in a secure bubble of flawless well-being, a perfect world.

While basking in the after glow, their arms and legs tangled together, Miyu stared at him through hazy eyes. Her eyes locked onto his gray irises that came into clear focus. The tip of her forefinger followed the straight line of his nose, dropping down to his lips, and sliding over his chin.

"I love my husband," she proclaimed softly.

"I love my wife," he returned, bringing her hand to his mouth to kiss the back then each fingertip.

"When we get home, I don't think we should tell anyone we're married."

"I agree. Someone could manipulate one of us into doing anything they wanted by threatening the other." Kuki raised an eyebrow as he held her gaze.

"Don't be angry with him. I don't think his intentions were - "

"I don't care what his intentions were," he cut her off. "He blackmailed you into coming back to the CCG which was something you clearly did not want to do."

"But I told you, maybe I did want to go back," she argued, guilt pricking at her like tiny needles. "I could have said no. You're a big boy, you can protect yourself. But I didn't want to take any chances of losing you."

Kuki grabbed her head, pressing a hard kiss to her mouth before she could say anything else. "You'll never lose me. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck. The point is, we can't let anyone take advantage of us or tear us apart."

"I will protect you at all costs," she promised, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.

"Obviously. I'll do the same for you," he swore. "I will stand beside you and love you for the rest of my life."

"I'll make sure that's for a very long time. I'll take care of you, cook good food for you, make love to you," she added with a shy giggle. "I won't abandon you or leave you for any reason. I love you now, and I'll love you more each and every year."

"I now pronounce us man and wife," he said, making both of them chuckle. "May I kiss the bride?"

"Yes, please."


	26. Exits and Entrances

Miyu never went to sleep that night. She held Kuki in her arms with his head resting on her chest, his chin propped on one of her breasts. With him in her arms, a sense of peace and comfort enveloped her. Throughout the night she alternated between rubbing her chin over the top of his head to feel his silky hair against her skin or stroking his back with her fingertips as a soothing gesture for herself. Occasionally he awakened, tilting his head upward to kiss her chin or her lips, wherever his lips contacted. Once he puckered and kissed the swell of her breast located under his lips; a simple movement which led to sharing their bodies and emotions, entwining them in an intimacy that was a comfort in itself.

For hours they had not spoken a word to each other but had enjoyed a physical closeness, a bonding through pure emotion, that required no words. They showered together not wanting to be apart for even a second. At least not until they left this place. They both held an unspoken fear that if the other got out of their sight, their beloved might just disappear. After all, this was a place of the mystical, the magical, and the murderous.

Miyu shed silent tears as she dressed in her traveling outfit of black skin tight yoga leggings, over-sized white t-shirt, and pullover black hoodie with a pouch on the front. Urie, as usual, dressed immaculately in black slacks and black button down shirt. He surprised her by pulling out his white leather trench coat from work.

"You look like you're here in an official capacity," she stated numbly, tears rolling down her face as she packed. "Did you bring your quinque too?"

"Of course not. I never would have gotten it through security. I sure could have used it last night," he murmured, returning clothes from the drawers to his suitcase.

Miyu picked up the wolf mask, carefully wrapping it in one of her sweaters before stuffing it in her carry on bag. She wanted to keep it close to her. If their luggage got lost, she could replace the clothes but not this mask. A family heirloom, the last gift from her father and her people, she would cherish it. Possibly one day she would have a child to pass it on to.

"Ready?" Kuki questioned her, zipping her suitcase before picking it up.

"As I'll ever be," she sighed, hefting the large tote bag onto her shoulder.

Although the sun had not yet risen, her father waited for them downstairs. He paced back and forth across the living room with his hands clasped behind his back. His face appeared drawn, tense, and pale. His handsome face had aged at least ten years overnight. Deep furrows of worry had been cut into his forehead. His intense scowl created troughs on either side of his nose and mouth.

"Dad?" Miyu called from the bottom step of the staircase when he had not yet acknowledged them.

"Miyu," he exhaled, raising his bent head to look at her. He pushed his lips upward but the smile did not diminish the weariness or sadness in his eyes. "It's that time, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," she rejoined, opening her arms when he neared her. Although she was standing on the step, he still towered over her by nearly a foot. Her tears started anew, flowing down her face in wet trails before dripping from her chin as he embraced her for a lengthy time. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize, sweetheart," he whispered, shedding tears of his own. "You did nothing wrong. None of this was your fault. If I had known - "

"Sir, please don't blame yourself," Kuki said, placing his hand on his father-in-law's shoulder. "You had no way of knowing someone so close to your heart would betray you in such a terrible way."

Miyu visibly shuddered as a chill ran down her spine like ice water being poured down her back. His words sounded disturbingly prophetic to her.

"Are you all right?" her father asked her, touching her chin with his fingertips.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him. "We should go."

Everett stood on the front porch waiting for them. His shot gun held in a diagonal carry across his chest, he looked as imposing and scary as he had when he met them in the woods upon their arrival. His gun held securely, ready to fire if necessary, lent a sense of urgency and danger to continue their hurried exit from the village. Without a word, he led them and her father to the edge of the treeline.

The picturesque beauty of the mountain hideaway was gone, having been replaced with a sinister cloud tainted by last night's events. During their slow and wordless procession along the path, there was no movement from the dark houses. Not even a sound floated on the air save the whisper of the wind through the evergreens. Not a single curtain drew back to permit curious or angry onlookers to view them. No one came out to stand on their front porch to watch them walk away or to bid them good-bye or go to hell.

At the treeline, Miyu turned to her father to receive one last bone crushing hug and a kiss on the forehead. Kuki received a firm handshake then an unexpected bear hug from his father-in-law. The way his narrow eyes opened wide and practically bugged out of his head made her worry his eyeballs might pop out from a combination of the shock and the strength of her father's hug.

"Daddy, I - "

"I love you too, baby," her father interrupted, tears streaming down his gaunt cheeks. "Don't say good-bye. Just go."

Everett nodded to her father, his leader, before taking them into the forest. Without a word, he expertly guided them through the forest he knew well having prowled it thousands of times as guardian of the colony. Progress seemed to be faster and less strenuous as they were leaving.

"Everett, was a displacement spell cast on us when we were coming in?" Miyu inquired.

"I'm afraid so. Eliza and her little witchy friends cast a spell to keep you two confused and wandering for hours. Thankfully, June and Philip got worried and asked me to help them find you," he explained.

"Oh, June and Philip," she sighed, tears filling her eyes all over again.

"Those two will be fine. They're smarter and stronger than you are giving them credit for. Those two had idea their mother wasn't all she pretended to be but..." He paused, sighing deeply. "Eliza was their mother so they still wanted to think the best of her."

They continued on, driven into silence not only by their proximity to their destination but also by the topic of conversation. Miyu did not want to ask what he would tell his daughter about her mother. Suddenly Everett turned, lowering his gun.

"This is as far as I'll go," he announced. "Your car is five hundred yards ahead in that direction."

Miyu turned her head to look in the direction he pointed.

"Everett, I - " Her voice froze in her throat when she turned back to see he was gone. Her head swung in Kuki's direction, but he was already walking in the indicated direction. "Did you see - "

"No," he replied swiftly, cutting her off. "Let's go, my beautiful wife. We have to get to the airport."

~\\..'../~

* * *

"Wake up, my love," Kuki whispered in her ear.

Miyu groaned and accidentally slapped him square in the middle of his face with a loud smack to push him away.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his nose. "Damn, you really are mean."

"I'm tired," she whined, slowly coming around. She had fallen asleep soon after getting settled in her seat and had slept through the entire, excruciatingly long flight.

"Sweetheart, I know. We'll be home soon," he assured her, patting her hand that was lying on her thigh. "Buckle your seat belt. We're about to land."

Miyu's entire body felt heavy and difficult to move. She groaned in protest at being jostled around when he reached under her, searching for the two parts of the seatbelt. She soon discovered he had ulterior motives for assisting her when he pinched her butt mercilessly before dragging out one part of the seatbelt from under her behind. As he reached around her hip to the other side, she slapped his hand away.

"No, thank you, sir. Your brand of help I do not need. I can do it," she muttered, lifting her behind to find the second part. "Wow, you've changed."

"Yeah, I have," he confirmed, brushing lips across hers. "It's all your fault."

"I'll gladly take the responsibility for that," she giggled, clicking her seat belt as the flight attendant began the landing spiel over the speaker.

Miyu's stomach drop as the plane began to lower from the sky to the runway. Home. The word had redefined itself again. Not that she minded. She dearly loved the person responsible for redefining the term.

Once the unbuckle safety belts sign turned on, they gladly untethered themselves and stood up to take their carry-ons out of the overhead bin. Slowly making their way with the rest of the herd from the plane then through the long tunnel into the airport itself. They gradually made their way to baggage carousel to stand and wait.

While they were waiting for their suitcases, Kuki took out his cell phone to turn it on. The device immediately began beeping and vibrating like a bomb ready to explode.

"Turn that thing off before security comes to arrest us!" Miyu hissed.

"What the hell is going on here?" he muttered, scanning the numerous text messages. Quite a few were still loading. He ignored the missed call and voice mail alerts choosing to read through the texts only.

Miyu reached into her bag to grab her phone. Her fingers contacted the smooth, cold surface of the mask. Momentarily she caressed the wood before continuing her blind search for her phone. After finding it, she turned it on, and it did the same thing as her husband's, going off like crazy.

"Has the end of the world come?" she muttered to herself.

"Seems like it," Kuki answered her rhetorical question.

Miyu received numerous texts from Ken Kaneki. There was one from Kishou Arima. She even had a few from Saiko and Tooru, both most likely searching for Kuki.

"Aww, dammit," he muttered irritably.

"What's wrong?" she asked, craning her neck to see his phone. Before she could read the message from Furuta Nimura, he deleted it. He slid his phone into the pocket of his coat.

"I have to go to headquarters. Some major shit has gone down," he sighed, rubbing his face with both hands in exasperation.

Miyu chewed her lower lip nervously while she studied his face. Dark circles had formed under his eyes along with the bags he carried there all due to severe lack of sleep not to mention the tiresome flight. She wanted him to come home because he was exhausted. The thought of him having to go out and fight ghouls in his current impaired condition terrified her.

Perhaps it was only an emergency meeting, a briefing on some rumor of a coming cataclysmic ghoul incident which unfortunately was not unusual. The rumors and the incidents were almost commonplace. Hopefully the investigators would not have to engage a group of ghouls.

"Miyu, I need you to do something for me," Kuki said, reading the messages on his phone. "Go home. Lock the doors. Stay away from the windows. Don't open the door for anyone but me."

"What's going on? I can come with you. Don't forgot I'm part of the CCG again," she stated with a hopeful lilt of her voice.

"No, not yet you aren't. Not in an official capacity," he reminded her. He still played by the rules, although she knew he was using that as an excuse to keep her away as long as possible. "Go home, Miyu. Please, for once, don't argue with me."

The pleading expression in his gray eyes enabled her to hold her tongue. She mutely nodded.

"I'll get our suitcases and go home. Go ahead," she urged him, glancing back at the empty conveyor belt. Obviously they had not yet unloaded their airplane's cargo hold. Her heart sank with dread. "I may be here a while."

"I love you," he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her heartily on the lips not caring one bit they were in public. Since it was around two in the morning, there were not many people in the airport.

"I love you too," she returned, reluctantly releasing him. She yelled after him, "Come home to me! That's an order!"

"Yes, ma'am!" he yelled in return over his shoulder to her.

"I can't lose you too," she whispered to herself.

Two hours later, around 4AM, Miyu finally made it home. Her dinky little apartment had never looked so good. She dumped all of their bags at the door, walking over to the bed. Falling face first onto the soft mattress, she moaned plaintively to alleviate the stress that had been building over the last two hours. However, nothing could tame the tension wrought on her body every time she thought about Kuki.

"Dammit," she grumbled realizing she had forgotten to lock the door.

Whimpering as she pulled her body from the soft bed, Miyu went to the door. As she was about to turn the deadbolt, the door knob slowly began to rotate. Her breathing stopped as she stared at the moving doorknob in disbelief. Kuki had warned her to lock the door. Did he somehow know she was going to have unexpected visitors? And who are they?

At least she had left the lights off. Slowly backing away, she nearly tripped over her carry on bag. Keeping her eyes on the door, she lowered her body until her fingertips touched the floor and her behind was in the air like a runner at her mark for a race. Her stomach dropped to her toes when the door moved forward.

 _Here they come_ , she told herself.

Gathering her strength in her legs, she launched herself at the door, throwing her entire body against it. The door met flesh and bone, resisting slightly before thrusting the person backwards as it slammed shut. A dull thud from the contact of a big body hitting the wall came from behind the door.

"Fuck!" she heard a man yelling before a series of bumps varying in volume and cadence indicated he was rolling down the stairs.

Before she could engage the deadbolt, Miyu was sent flying backwards when a booted foot kicked in the door breaking it free from the top hinge. The force shoved her across the small living room into the wall. Her head hit the wall behind her with enough force to crack the dry wall sending out a puff of plaster dust around her.

Another large man, both tall and wide, stomped toward her with a confident swagger. He wore faded blue jeans, a black leather jacket, and thick soled black biker boots. Completely incongruous to the rest of his appearance, he wore a white mask bearing an overly exaggerated grin like the one used to represent comedy in theater. Instead of approaching her, he stepped to the side.

Without waiting for him to attack her, Miyu rushed at him. She stopped short before slamming right into him. Flipping forward in a front handspring, she pushed herself upwards as forcefully as she could off of her hands to wrap her legs around his neck. She managed to squeeze his neck between her knees, locking her legs around his head at her ankles. Reaching up, she grabbed his head with both hands, leaning back as quickly as possible so the momentum of her body would pull him forward, setting him off balance. Holding onto him tightly, she flipped him over onto his back as they were falling.

They rolled together, head over heels. Miyu found herself in an upright position, sitting on his neck with her thighs gripping his head. His fingers dug into her thighs, his lengthy pointed nails painted red with her blood as they pierced her skin through the thin material of her lycra pants. Tightening the muscles in her thick thighs, she twisted his neck until she heard the nausea inducing crack of bone. His body became limp and lifeless under her.

Scuttling backwards off of the man's dead body, Miyu saw a third man looming in front of her. His body did not move at all as he stood there staring at her. Instead of wearing make up, he wore a white mask bearing the visage of the quintessential clown with a bulbous red nose and big red lips. There was also a red star painted around the left eye hole and a red heart painted around the right eye hole. Tufts of crayon red hair jutted out from his head. The costume he wore was large and loose, white with red polka dots, hanging pitifully on his almost skeletal body. Over-sized, floppy red shoes were on his feet. A classic clown but there was nothing funny about this situation.

At last he budged, his head cocking to the side ever so slowly in the manner of a befuddled puppy. He held the string attached to a singular red balloon in his hand. He reminded her of a killer clown she had read about in a book years ago.

Miyu frantically searched for a place to hide as he raised the nose of the pistol in his hand to aim it at her head. He stood between her and door so she would have to go through him to leave. However, his bullet would go through her before she could shift him out of the way. She was wary of that one red balloon. There had to be a nefarious purpose for that balloon.

Sliding to her left, toward the kitchen counter, she froze when he followed her with the muzzle of the gun. But he did not fire. She took another step. The same thing happened. The gun remained aimed at her head. Taking a chance, gathering her courage and her strength, she lunged for the counter, seizing the extremely sharp filet knife from the dish drainer.

He squeezed off a shot, the fire cracker like pop sounding like a cannon in her ears. Seconds later, a burning sensation like alcohol being poured into an open wound cut across her right shoulder. A jolting electrical shock of pain rushed down her arm, making it feel achy and numb at the same time. Her body's natural response was for her fingers to let go of the knife so she grabbed it with her left hand. Although not ambidextrous, she flung the knife toward the clown.

Being such a thin knife, it would not do major damage, only startle him a bit and distract him momentarily. Worst case scenario, she misses him entirely. Or perhaps worst case scenario would be hitting the balloon. It could be filled with poisonous gas or some kind of bio-weapon.

The creepy, silent clown stumbled back a step when the knife found its way into his belly, sinking down to the hilt. He presently stood in the doorway completely blocking her escape route. More bad news came in the form of him being completely unfazed by the knife in his gut.

Miyu stood still for second. When he raised the gun again, this time aiming at the balloon above his head, she bolted toward him at top speed. She did not want to find out what was in that balloon.

About two feet in front of him, she dropped onto her back, sliding across the floor. Thrusting her legs up and out at him, she kicked at his abdomen with all of her might. One foot pushed the knife further into his belly, driving the handle deep inside of him. Her other foot hit him in the gut to fling him out of the door and against the wall. Unfortunately, he bounced off the wall and back into the apartment toward her.

Jumping to her feet, Miyu kicked him back out the door with her right leg then gave him a roundhouse kick with her left leg to push him down the stairs. She dropped to the floor, panting.

Thwacks and crunches followed in a staccato beat as he bumped down the steps. Random bones cracked, getting broken as his body pounded the sturdy wooden steps. A final loud thwack sounded to be followed by a sickening crunch. Hopefully the revolting sound heralded his death.

Miyu swayed precariously then dropped to the floor onto her behind. Her right arm felt cold and wet, a little bit sticky. She carefully took off her blood soaked hoodie. Half dried blood smeared her arm all the way down to her wrist. She grunted, gritting her teeth, when a searing pain started in her upper arm where the bullet had entered.

The invisible flames of agony burned through her upper arm from the bullet lodged in her bicep down to below her elbow. The muscles quivered and contracted making her wonder if something had come to life inside her arm. The trickle of blood became a steady flow, spurting out forcefully from the bullet hole with each beat of her heart. Grinding her teeth to hold back a scream, she fought through the gradually increasing pain. She squeezed her eyes closed to block out the black dots and flashes of light alternately popped up in her vision. When she reached her threshold, sure she was about to pass the edge of insanity driven there by the overwhelming physical torment, the pain receded like a wave returning to the ocean.

The delicate plink of a small object hitting the hardwood floor caught her attention, prompting her to open her eyes. On the floor lay the bullet, a squished, half flattened piece of metal. She picked it up to examine it, bringing it close to her bleary eyes. Although covered by her blood, she could tell the metal was silver.

"Good thing I'm not a werewolf," she mumbled to herself.

Miyu slumped forward, her vision dimming around the edges from the incoming fog of dizziness. She feared she might faint. What if the men who tried to kill her weren't dead yet? These clowns were not mere humans. They were ghouls. Incredibly weak ones, but ghouls none the less. Whoever sent them to kill her assumed she would be an easy target. The joke was on them.

"What the fuck?" Although Kuki had uttered the words in shocked confusion under his breath, she heard them loud and clear in the eerie stillness. "Miyu? Miyu!" he yelled running up the stairs.

"I'm here," she called out to him weakly, unable to rise from the floor.

"What the hell happened here?" he asked, falling onto to his knees in front of her.

"I forgot to lock the door. I'm sorry," she apologized.

"What? What are you talking about?" he questioned her, pushing the sweaty hair away from her face. "Why are you apologizing? These men came here to kill you."

"You told me to lock the door. I forgot to lock the door," she repeated. The sight of his face wavered and became fuzzy.

"Miyu," he whispered, pulling her into his arms and into his body. He cradled the back of her head with his hand. "It's okay. It doesn't matter. They would have gotten in regardless."

Miyu felt her body being lifted, his strong arms holding her securely.

"Where are we going?" she inquired when he lifted her into his arms in a bridal carry.

"If I had been here to carry you in over the threshold like this, I wouldn't be having to carry you out over the threshold to the hospital," he said.

"I'm okay. My body is healing itself."

"You're still going to the hospital. You need to be checked out. I need to know you're okay. If I had been here, you would have been safe."

"But I'm fine," she insisted. "I'm not helpless. I can protect myself, you know. I think I did a pretty good job."

"Yes, you did," he agreed. His tone made him sound as if he were pandering to a petulant child.

"Besides, whoever did this didn't think much of me." She lay her head on his shoulder, too feeble to hold it up any longer. "You don't seem to think too much of me and my abilities either."

"I'm sorry. I swear I'll never underestimate you again," he promised.

"Don't. Because you're going to need me," she warned him.

"I already do need you. That's why nothing can happen to you."


	27. Antibody

Dr. Shiba flipped through the pages of Miyu's chart for the third time. Occasionally, he offered a pensive hum from his throat before consulting his own notes in another file folder sitting on his desk. The click of his pen sounded as deafening as the crack of a gunshot when he pressed it so he could scribble a few words onto the pages of his notes.

Urie grew incredibly antsy, apprehension eating him up inside. He shifted on the uncomfortable metal stool waiting for the doctor to speak. Miyu had been in the hospital for a week already, having blood drawn and tests ran continuously, but no one was telling them anything. On the fourth day of her stay, Dr. Shiba had requested he come in to have his blood drawn. It wasn't time for his usual testing. Three days had passed since then, yet he had heard nothing from the doctor until today. And so far, he still had heard nothing about his or her results.

"Dr. Shiba, what's going on?" Urie inquired, impatience straining his voice and giving it a harder edge than he had intended.

"Hmph," the old doctor grunted. His sleepy eyes rimmed with dozens of wrinkles lifted from the page he was reading to meet Urie's direct gaze.

"Why hasn't Miyu been released? She says she feels fine, and no one has said she isn't fine. It's not time for my regularly scheduled Rc test. What's happening?" he demanded, his fingers curling into fists on his knees.

"We tested the substance in the balloon that was found on the scene at Miss Nakashima's apartment. It was blood laced with mutated Rc cells," he said, closing the folder in his hands. "We believe it was a bio-weapon meant to act like a virus, similar to catching the flu. These Rc cells attach to the existing normal Rc cells causing them to reproduce rapidly, increasing at an exponential rate, overtaking them, and invoking the change at a much faster rate. However, we believe this is only a prototype, and not quite complete. We're guessing she's their first experiment."

"Experiment?" Urie murmured. _Biological weapon? A ghoul virus? Who would want to turn her into a ghoul?_

"Your girlfriend is an unusual creature isn't she, Mr. Urie?" the doctor prodded gently.

"What do you mean?" He was genuinely confused. _What had the old man found out by testing her blood?_

"Until now, I've never had the reason or an opportunity to test her blood. I found some..." The old doctor paused, his shaggy mustache wiggling over his top lip. "I found some unusual anomalies. She's certainly not a ghoul, but she's not exactly human either. I can't determine exactly what she is," he stated as if talking to himself aloud.

 _What are you getting at old man?,_ Urie wanted to ask him but left the question unspoken. Arima had to be the one responsible for keeping her identity as a succubus a secret. He developed a new appreciation of the man beyond him being a top level investigator and phenomenal fighter.

"I can tell you she has no Rc cells." He waited as if to allow the shocking words to sink in. Staring at Urie, he appeared to be seeking a reaction to judge what to think about his findings.

Urie gritted his teeth, doing his best to remain emotionless, keeping his face placid. Staying impassive took every ounce of his self-control as his mind spun out of control, a firestorm of questions igniting and falling upon him like molten rain and burning his brain. No Rc cells? Was that due to her being a succubus? Or had something changed after the little ritual that had been meant to kill her?

"I did discover something even more interesting than that," Dr. Shiba continued. "There is an extra type of cell in her blood akin to a leukocyte. It acts like a white blood cell that attacks and destroys the Rc cells specifically."

"What?" Urie gasped not believing his ears. He blinked at the doctor, desperately trying to comprehend the information being spoon fed to him in small bits. Yet the content muddled his mind, confusing him, rendering the revelations nearly incomprehensible.

"We gave her an injection of Rc cells to see what would happen," Dr. Shiba announced as if it were completely natural, no more dangerous than giving her a shot of antibiotics.

"You did what?! You're using her as a lab rat?! Do you know what you could have done?!" he shouted angrily. He stood up quickly from his seat, pushing the stool away on its stationary metal feet which made a bone jarring scrape across the cement floor. "I'm taking her and leaving. How dare you do something so - "

"She's fine, Mr. Urie," the old man assured him, gesturing for him to sit back down. "It's you I'm worried about. Your Rc cell count has lowered. Nothing significant yet as you're still very much within your proper range. I'm suspicious that the mixing of your..." The doctor cleared his throat, opening the folder again to glance at the notes he had made. "I believe the mixing of your bodily fluids has caused the decrease. I must conduct more tests on you both."

Dazed, Urie dropped down onto the seat he had abandoned earlier. She had decreased his Rc cells, keeping them from rising to dangerous like they had been doing? Could it be true? That would explain why food tasted good again, and why he no longer had the urge to literally devour her to sate his ghoulish hunger. That would also be evidence this transformation inside of her was a recent development.

 _Dammit! That can't be!_ He clenched and unclenched his fists, wanting to hit something to release the rage building inside of him.

"Who knows about this?" Urie questioned the man who seemed completely unconcerned about the situation.

"Myself, you, and Kishou Arima," the doctor answered.

 _Of course Kishou Arima knows,_ he thought to himself bitterly.

"I'm counting on your confidentiality in this matter considering not only the sensitivity of this information but your relationship with Miss Nakashima. The possible applications should anyone find out about this anomaly in her blood frightens me. Her blood could be used as a vaccine of sorts to kill ghouls," he stated matter of factly showing no emotion whatsoever. "There's one more thing I must tell in light of your personal involvement. I'm assuming your relationship is quite serious."

Allowing him a moment to process this shocking information without giving him more would be nice, but the doctor was not allowing for that. Urie shook his head, attempting to understand the present question posed to him.

"What does that have to do with anything?" he inquired, giving up on his muddled mind figuring out exactly what the good doctor was getting at.

"Do you plan on getting married? Having children?"

 _Well, one of those is a done deal. The other? Although not today, definitely one day_ , Urie thought to himself.

"Why?" Urie questioned the overly inquisitive doctor.

"Because, Mr. Urie, she could kill you should your Rc level get too low. Furthermore, if she gets pregnant, those cells of hers would see the baby as an invading disease it must get rid of. Something that needs to be contained and destroyed. In the other words, her own body will kill the baby because it mistakes the fetus as a threat," he explained as simply as possible.

"No. That can't be," he muttered. "Is there anything that can be done? I mean, I'm not sure about the future, but can she be given something to allow her to carry a child?"

"A drug to suppress her immune system could in theory work, preventing her body from attacking the baby as a foreign invader, however, that would carry serious risk of leaving her and the fetus open to other more common diseases. A simple cold could kill her."

"Does she know about any of this?" Urie asked.

"No. I haven't told her yet."

"Why did you tell me first?"

"You are my first priority as a Quinx Squad member. In light of your relationship with Miss Nakashima, I felt it my duty to make you aware of the entire situation before something happened."

"You didn't feel like it was your duty to tell her first considering this is more about her than me?" he growled. When the doctor stared at him in silence, blinking stupidly, he changed his line of inquiry. "You just found this out about her. Is all of this definite, or are there still variables? Things could change with more research, right?" he asked, hope springing forth inside of him to push away the despair. He didn't want anymore bad news right now. She certainly didn't need it either. "You could find a cure, a vaccine...something? Perhaps it's just a temporary mutation of her own cells."

"Possibly. I will conduct more experiments. Besides, those cells she produces could come in handy in regulating Rc cells. It's not necessarily a bad thing," Dr. Shiba said, scrawling more notes into the file on his desk. "Depending in whose hands the information rests."

 _Are your hands the best hands, Doc?_ Urie pondered silently. _You would be hailed as a genius making a scientific breakthrough, but in the wrong hands the knowledge could prove to be deadly for thousands of ghouls. And what about Miyu? What about me? What about the child we want to have? Dammit!_

"I'm going to see her," Urie announced, standing up to leave.

"Come back tomorrow so I can take another blood sample," the doctor called after him. "For your safety, I will have to monitor you closely. Her too for that matter."

"When can she leave?"

"I'm not sure. More testing must be done."

"Yeah, sure Doc. Whatever it takes."

* * *

~\\..'../~

A soft tapping sounded on the door to her room. Assuming it was a nurse coming for another vial of blood or to check her vitals for the thousandth time, Miyu bid them to come in. She actually felt relieved when Arima's white head poked around the door.

"Wow, you haven't looked at me like that in a long time," he remarked, giving her a grin which looked so out of place on his typically stoic face.

"Oh yeah? How is that?" she returned, a blush heating her cheeks as she fluffed the pillows behind her back to avoid looking at him.

"Happy." He was still standing at the door.

"Go ahead, come in," she told him, folding the sheet and straightening the edge along her chest before tucking it under her arms. "Maybe you can tell me something about what's going on. Why won't the let me go home?"

"I haven't a clue," he replied, sitting in the chair beside her bed. "I'll tell you what I do know. You're not going to like it."

"Oh," she sighed in disappointment.

"Your apartment is still the scene of an active investigation. Arrangements have been made for you and Urie to move into the Chateau. At least temporarily," he added quickly.

"The Chateau?" she queried. She seemed to remember Urie mentioning that place. Wasn't it the name of the home where he lived before moving in with her?

"That's the house where he and his team lived together," he informed her as if he had read her mind.

"Are you sure that's wise?" she questioned him. "The memories of Shirazu might be a problem. Urie still blames himself for his death you know."

"I know," Arima sighed woefully. "That young man still blames himself for his father's death. It doesn't seem to matter to him he was a mere child and could have done nothing to stop it. Urie is a conscientious young man. He doesn't take responsibility for others lightly."

"I know," she murmured, recalling how he had nearly killed himself in his attempt to protect her from Eliza, her murderous step-mother. "What about Haise? That could be a problem as well. Things have changed with him. He has changed."

"Well, the whole team is having to adjust to that fact. Urie returning to the Chateau to be with his team, and you being there as well, might help make the emotional transition a little easier for everyone. Including Haise."

"Somehow I doubt that my presence will ease their pain," she mumbled, fearing she would only cause them more emotional distress. "Let's be honest. Haise isn't Haise anymore, and he's the only person they knew him to be. But he no longer exists. He never did exist actually," she added acidly, glaring at her partner in crime on that point. "He was just an illusion we created that has hurt so many people, especially Kaneki."

"They don't know that with the exception of Urie and Kaneki himself."

"Is that supposed to help me feel less guilty?"

"You're too much like your boyfriend," he grunted.

 _My husband!_ Everything within her wanted to correct him, to inform him of their new relationship status. However, they had agreed to keep it a secret for now to protect each other.

"You hold onto your guilt, whether it's deserved or not, like a weird security blanket of sorts, torturing yourself and wallowing in your pain. I never considered you a masochist," he joked, unknowingly hitting too close to a sore mark.

"Yeah, well, we all have our dirty little secrets," she retorted, momentarily holding his gaze with an accusatory look.

Arima visibly flinched, an unusual reaction for the unflappable man. That reaction caused worry to blossom inside of her.

"Maybe this is exactly what all of you need," Arima said. "You and those kids can become a family. Urie had just started to understand what it meant to have a family. It's been so long since you've had one I'm sure you've forgotten."

Miyu doubted he purposely meant to hurt her feelings considering the fact he had no idea what had just happened to her with her family. Nevertheless, despite her valiant effort to hold them back, tears broke free from her tear ducts and wet her cheeks.

"Miyu? I'm sorry," he apologized, reaching for her hand. "I didn't mean to - "

"I would hope you're not intentionally that cruel," she sniffed, pulling her hand away before her could hold it.

"Not to you," he returned in a low voice, almost a whisper.

"Hmph," she snorted skeptically. "Well, that would certainly be a change from the recent past."

Arima stood up, sitting on the bed beside her. Taking her hand in his, not allowing her to pull away, he wiped away her tears with the corner of the sheet pulled up to her chest.

"Listen, I know now is not the time for this, but I'm not sure how much time I have left."

"Please don't be saying what I think you're saying," she begged, the tears flowing faster. "Don't do this to me, not now, you selfish prick."

"I'm sorry," he apologized a second time, giving her a platonic kiss of friendship on the forehead.

Miyu started to tremble in fear. Not only was he being excessively apologetic which was scary in itself, he was leading up to something that sounded suspiciously like a farewell, most likely coming with a request she would not want to fulfill.

"When my end comes, I want you to be there. I want you to give me a good send off. Do you know what I mean?" he asked, combing his fingers through her tangled waves.

"Kishou, don't ask me to do that, please. You can't," she pleaded with him.

"You won't be the one to kill me. I'm not asking you to do that," he assured her, taking her quaking body into his arms. "I want you to be with me in the end. As a friend, I need you to take it all away... the pain and suffering I've endured all my life, being what I am. You understand that don't you?"

"More than you know," she sniffed.

"Free me and allow me to feel something before I die. I've always admired your strength. Both physical and emotional. I actually envied you on the latter," he confessed with a bitter chuckle. "But I want you to have more physical strength so you can stand beside Urie, protect him and yourself, so that neither of you die."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, unable to speak louder due to the powerful emotions choking her.

"Because, like you said, I'm a selfish prick. After I'm gone, I still want to be a part of your life," he said, smiling through the tears that gathered across his lower eyelid. "A part of you."

"Damn you, Kishou Arima," she sobbed, pressing her forehead into his shoulder to hide her face.

"Now, I'm sure Urie will be coming to see you soon," he said, dropping his arms from around her. "Should he see me like this, I'd have a lot of explaining to do."

Moving from the bed quite quickly, he went to the nearby sink. Turning on the faucet, Arima dampened a washcloth then handed it to her.

"Fix your face, find your smile, be brave like you always have been," he told her, a single tear on each side overrunning his brimming eyelids to zigzag down his cheeks.

"You're such an asshole," she laughed through her tears, covering her face with the cool, wet cloth.

Before either of them could utter another word, Urie stepped into the room without knocking since the door had been left ajar. He fastened his eyes onto Arima with an evident warning glare before shifting his attention to Miyu. The expression in his eyes softened to a questioning look, requesting an explanation before he jumped to conclusions.

* * *

~\\..'../~

"Is everything okay in here?" he asked, pinning his gaze to his new wife who appeared to have been crying. _What the hell has Arima said now to make her cry?_ , he wondered. "Miyu? Are you all right?"

"Arima was just leaving," she proclaimed without looking at the man.

"Yes," Arima agreed, moving away from her bed to the door. Before exiting, he stopped to speak to Urie directly. "I was just telling Miyu that arrangements have been made for the two of you to move into the Chateau since her apartment is still an active crime scene."

"Are charges going to be pressed against her?" Urie inquired. _The Chateau? Was she being put under some type of house arrest?_

"Of course not," Arima replied, waving off the very idea with a flick of his hand. "It was an obvious case of self-defense. However, we're still searching for any possible clues to the identity of those men. Their affiliation is obvious."

"Yes, it is," Urie returned.

The men who attacked her were members of The Clowns, the group who still had yet to reveal the purpose for any of their attacks. Their goals remained a mystery as they continued assaulting ghouls and humans alike. However, the attack on Miyu was definitely premeditated with the purpose of using her as a lab rat for testing their biological weapon. Unfortunately, drawing that conclusion raised more questions than giving any answers.

Urie did not address the issue of moving back to the Chateau. Perhaps Arima had gotten the idea of moving them there after speaking to Dr. Shiba. Living there would make it easier for her whereabouts and activities to be monitored. At least she could leave this damn hospital.

Maybe the idea of living there was what upset her. In actuality, she did not seem upset enough to have been told she carried an anti-Rc cell. It also appeared the helpful suggestion of living at the Chateau was more of a benevolent command issued by an old friend. If she was against the idea, he believed she had good reasons but it was becoming evident there was really nothing they could do.

"I'll be going," Arima announced, heading to the door. "Men are moving your things to the Chateau as we speak. Hopefully you two can go to your new home together."

Neither one of them said anything until Arima closed the door behind himself. Arima's last words confirmed his suspicions about their moving being an order.

"Are you okay with this?" Urie asked her.

"It doesn't sound like we have choice. Besides, I'll go wherever you go. Who knows? It may be good for all of us. I'm sure your team is hurting for their own reasons right now." Changing the subject quickly, she inquired, "What did the doctor say? Are you all right?"

"Oh, yeah. My Rc cell count has lowered a bit but is still well within the normal range for me. He said there's nothing to worry about," Urie told her, carefully choosing the information he wanted to share.

"That's good. Did he say anything about letting me get out of here?" She accepted his kiss when he leaned toward her.

"Nothing definite. Tomorrow maybe," he lied.

Sitting down on the side of the bed, he stroked her cheek with his fingertips but avoided making eye contact with her. He hated lying to her. However, if staying in the hospital for a few more days meant finding a 'cure' for this antibody she possesses, he wanted her to stay.

"So, we're moving back to the Chateau," he said switching back to their first topic of conversation. "Good thing you already know the rest of the team so it won't be quite so awkward."

"Yeah. Hopefully it will be a good thing for all of us. But I'm just not sure," she sighed, lowering her chin to her chest.

"Hey," he murmured, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He pulled her face up so he could see her eyes. This time, his eyes sought to hold hers. "As long as we're together, I don't care where we are."

Miyu smiled, leaning forward. She pressed her mouth squarely to his for a firm but brief kiss. "You're right. As long as we're together, we can handle anything."


	28. A New Family

"Miyu, no!" Kuki yelled as she reached for the handle of the door.

Miyu jumped back as if it might bite her. "What?! What's wrong?!"

"There's something I need to do," he said, stepping in front of her.

Was something bad about to happen? Did he sense a menacing presence inside that she didn't? Maybe he wanted to go inside first to check the place for threats.

Miyu held her breath as he opened the door. Darkness greeted them. No lights were on, and no one was home. Where was everyone?

Kuki turned around to face her. Her eyebrows drew together in worried befuddlement as he stared at her. His fingers lightly stroked her cheek while his eyes held hers for what she deemed an unreasonably long time at the moment. If someone nefarious was waiting to attack them, he was giving them ample opportunity to do so. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Wha-" A surprised shriek echoed through the Chateau when he suddenly bent down, catching her under the knees, and lifting her into a bridal carry. She giggled as he held her in preparation to carry her over the threshold.

"We need to make it official. This will be our home now," he said as if making a ceremonial declaration.

Miyu kissed him briefly on the lips. He never ceased to amaze her with his tender sentimentality. She adored the new and soft hearted Kuki Urie so much.

"I didn't do this when we got home the first time, and I - " He paused for a quick kiss. "I didn't want to make that mistake again. So welcome to our new home, my love."

"Oh, god, Kuki," she sniffed, not wanting to cry but he was being downright mushy.

Kuki took her inside, setting her down on her feet when they were halfway down the short hall that comprised the foyer. He pulled her close, embracing her tightly.

"I love you so much. You mean the world to me. You are my world," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

There was no way she would ever get tired of hearing those words from him.

"I love you too, my darling. But what - "

The lights flashed on, blinding them.

"SURPRISE!" a chorus of voices shouted cheerfully.

Once her eyes adjusted, Miyu saw Ken, Saiko, and Tooru standing at the end of the hallway that opened into what appeared to be the living room. She could see a dining room table behind them set with a feast including a fancy decorated cake. Streamers hung from the light fixture above the table, and balloons were tied to the chairs. A party! The did indeed have a reason to celebrate.

"Welcome home!" the trio greeted them merrily.

Miyu leaned heavily on Kuki, pressing her tear streaked face into his chest. She didn't care that she was ruining his dress shirt with her tears and make up. The dark green color wouldn't show stains, and she would wash it anyway.

"I'm sorry," Ken apologized.

"Did we do something wrong?" Tooru asked with sincerest concern.

"Miss Miyu, why are you sad?" Saiko questioned her.

"Oh, I'm not sad, not at all," Miyu said, letting go of Kuki to turn and hug the small young woman who had tears swimming in her eyes. "I'm just happy. Thank you."

She let go of Saiko to embrace Tooru next. She placed her hand on his cheek, looking into his single storm cloud grey eye.

"Of course you didn't do anything wrong. You've done everything right," she laughed lightly, hugging him again.

Then came Ken. It was so strange seeing him with black hair, his eyes gazing at her from behind his round glasses. How confusing things must be for him; finding himself transformed again. She had an idea of what it was like to be in a state of constant change, experiencing shifting thoughts, attitudes, and completely different personalities. His frozen expression and emotionless eyes reminded her of Arima. He really was grooming the man to be just like him. For some reason, that frightened her.

Miyu sighed sadly, detecting his resistance to physical contact and his standoffish attitude. Instead of trying to embrace him, she offered him a wavering smile as he stared at her with those disconcertingly undemonstrative eyes.

"Ken, I "

"Welcome home. I'm glad you're a part of our family," he stated formally, his face never changing from its current impassive expression.

"Th-thank you," she stammered, not surprised or disappointed that he didn't want to hug her. She feared he might freeze her to death his current frigid attitude.

Ken's eyes shifted to Kuki who he acknowledged with a nod. A distinct tension filled the air.

"Let's eat! I'm starving!" Saiko announced, taking Miyu by the hand to lead her to the table.

"Me too!" she exclaimed although she was not the least bit interested in food.

Kuki, Tooru, and Saiko talked about how good it was to be back together in the Chateau. They tried to include Miyu, discussing how fabulous things would be now that they had a new family member. They talked about returning to work together. They reminisced about Ginshi. Kuki allowed himself to be the object of embarrassment when they fondly looked back on a practical joke Ginshi had played on him.

"Do you remember how angry you were when you opened your bedroom door and everything had been turned upside down?" Tooru laughed.

"Yeah, yeah," Kuki muttered, trying to hide the smile on his lips. "I still want to know who helped him flip my bed over."

"We'll never tell," Saiko said, heartily digging into her spaghetti.

A titter of laughter ran around the table before the conversation turned to plans for tomorrow. They should do a team building activity of some sort, spending the day doing something together. They would not only be living together as a family but working together as a team as well.

Although Ken prepared the delicious dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, he drank black coffee only. Occasionally he would offer a word or two to contribute to the conversation. Most of the time, he stared into his cup, obviously elsewhere mentally though physically present.

Miyu did not speak much either. She poked at her food, twirling and untwirling the noodles around her fork. Her thoughts were on an entirely different level. The hollow feeling inside of her was like a black hole preparing to swallow her whole. A void had opened where her heart should be.

They were all being so sweet, so kind to include her. Yet she could not shake the feeling of not belonging, of being an unwanted visitor. She flinched when Kuki's warm hand covered hers holding her fork that she was presently using to push a meatball around her plate.

"Are you all right?" he inquired, squeezing her hand.

"Does the food taste okay?" Ken asked, pushing away from the table. "I can get you something else if you don't like it."

"No, it's good," she lied. She had no idea how it tasted since she had not taken a single bite. "I'm just tired."

Miyu didn't exactly lie about that. Although exhausted, she knew there was no way in hell she could get to sleep with all of the thoughts running around in her head. Her mind bounced around like a pinball in a machine, pinging from one subject to another. What did Kuki know that he wasn't telling her? Where was her father? Who had sent those clowns to kill her? When would Ken Kaneki make another personality shift? Why did Arima come to see her in the hospital? Was she making a mistake going back to the CCG? What was Dr. Shiba not telling her? Her head started to ache from the whirling thoughts.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, standing up abruptly.

Everyone stared at her, varying degrees of worry registering on their faces. Except for Kaneki. He gazed at her blankly, his face stony.

"I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well. I think I need to go lie down. Thank you all for everything," she said, bowing to each one of them in turn. "Thank you so much for accepting me into your home...making me a part of the family. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Well, how could we not accept you?" Tooru questioned her. "We all know you. You're our friend. You are also Kuki's girlfriend. Of course you're a part of the family. We're all just actually coming back to the house ourselves. This a new situation for all of us in a way."

"Yeah," Saiko agreed enthusiastically. "We'll all need a little time to adjust."

Kaneki remained silent. That was okay. He had his own changes to deal with that far outstripped any of the adjustments they would be making.

"Good night. And thank you all again," Miyu said.

"I'll come with you," Kuki offered.

"No. I'm fine. You stay with them. There's a lot you all need to catch up on. A lot that doesn't involve me," she stated, giving him a smile that she did not feel at all.

"Okay. Good night. I'll be in later."

Miyu walked a few steps away from the table toward the stairs. Then she realized something extremely important and very embarrassing. Slowly turning around, she kept her head down to hide her reddened cheeks.

"What is it?" Kuki asked.

"Uhm, I don't know where our bedroom is," she confessed.

He chuckled lightly. He pushed away from the table to go to her. Taking her by the hand, he led her up the stairs.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"No. I'm not," she admitted as he led her down the second floor hallway. "I just feel...out of place. Like I don't belong here. This was your home with them. I feel - "

"Hey," he cut her off, tugging on her hand to turn her to face him. He brushed his fingers through her hair and placed a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose. "You belong with me. And wherever I am, you have to be there too. Got that?"

"Yeah." She kept her eyes glued to the dark gray carpet under her feet. His body leaned into hers, pushing her back slightly. Her eyes flickered up to his questioningly.

"This is our room," he announced, reaching past her to open the door behind her.

"Oh." Pivoting on her heel, she walked inside.

Miyu would have never thought there were so many shades of grey until she saw his room. The hues ranged from an almost white ash grey to an intense grey so dark it was almost black. There was something calming about the room rather than depressing. Becoming aware of her weariness, she crawled onto the gigantic king sized bed, burrowing under the covers.

The only other furniture in the room was two matching four drawer chests, one on either side of the bed. His and hers, she guessed. A small lamp with a multi colored, stained glass lampshade sat on the dresser near the door creating colorful mosaics on the dove grey walls and ceiling. She found a degree of comfort in the simplicity of the room in contrast to her apartment in its wide variety of colors as well as the number and conflicting style of furnishings. Her heart sank with the realization the apartment would be another home she could never go back to.

"Everything will be okay," Kuki assured her, scooting over to her from the edge of the bed.

"Yeah. I know. Everything will eventually work itself out. It just takes time. Right?" Her eyes connected with his, seeking his confirmation to prop up her shaky feelings.

"Of course. It just takes time," he repeated, kissing her on the forehead.

For a moment, Miyu cuddled into him, relishing the soothing security she found in his arms. If home is where the heart is, then he was her true home. Wherever he was would be her home from now on.

"I love you, Kuki," she whispered, blinking rapidly to push back her tears.

"I love you too. I'll stay if you want me to. Everyone would understand," he said, playing with the fingers of her hand resting on his chest.

"And I understand you need to be with them. Go," she ordered him good naturedly, raising her head from his shoulder.

Forcing a smile to her lips, she watched him leave the room. Thankfully he did not look back at the door, or she would have asked him to stay.

Kuki needed time alone with them. He needed to reacquaint himself with his friends and original family members. He also needed a chance to acquaint himself with Ken Kaneki, a different man than the one he knew as Haise Sasaki.

Miyu allowed herself to unleash her tears. She had not wanted to ruin the evening by shedding her tears in front of them downstairs. Bawling with abandon, her pent up emotions spewed forth in ugly wailing sobs since she found herself alone and in a safe space. She cried until she wore herself out completely from the emotional effort.

Waiting for sleep to overtake her, she blinked slowly, ready for the moment when her eyelids did not reopen. She was close to falling asleep when she heard a fast bumping sound then realized she could hear the heart beat of a person standing on the other side of the door. The heart beat did not belong to Kuki.

While in the hospital, she had played a game, listening for and learning the different sounds of everyone's footsteps, their breathing patterns, and even the rhythm of their heart beats to be able to recognize them - and mostly to prevent anyone from sneaking up on her. She had also learned to differentiate them by scent. During her two week long hospital stay, she found herself with an obscene amount of time which she used to train herself on honing her sensing skills. It had been a long time since she had used them in such a way. She figured it would come in handy when she returned to her official duties.

"Miyu?" Tooru called. "Urie said it would be all right for me to come talk to you."

Miyu said nothing, exhaling the breath she had been holding. Selfishly, she pretended to be asleep because she did not feel like talking.

"Oh, I guess you're asleep," he murmured, but did not leave. "I just wanted to tell you, I'm glad you're here. That's all. I know being here is difficult for you."

Tooru needed to talk since he continued to talk to someone he believed to be sleeping. She couldn't stand shutting him out when he was obviously hurting and in need.

"Tooru, you can come in," she called.

The door opened a crack, allowing in a sliver of white light from the hall fixture. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't asleep," she assured him. "Come in."

Miyu sat up, piling the pillows behind her to support her back. She smiled at him when he opened the door to enter the room.

"I don't want to burden you with my problems. I know the last few weeks for you have been tough too. But..." He paused briefly.

She motioned for him to sit down on the bed which he did - on the end by her feet with his back to her. Maybe not facing her would enable him to speak freely, unhindered by any inhibitions or a need to sensor himself.

"It's weird for me that Sasaki isn't here anymore. You probably don't understand since you didn't know him."

 _Poor Tooru. You have no idea how well I know both of these men, Sasaki and Kaneki,_ Miyu thought, her body starting to tremble from the distress from seeping into her from him. She hoped Tooru didn't notice the tremor.

"Sasaki was a great guy. I think you would have liked him. He was my teacher, my mentor. He knew my secret first. He never treated me any differently. I was always the same person to him even after he found out. He pushed me just as hard, expected just as much, as he did before. But I don't..." His words trailed off, and he sniffed betraying his tears. "I don't know how to deal with this. I don't know how to treat him or talk to him or how to feel about him. I'm angry because I've lost someone important. And I know he's never coming back." He inhaled a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry to be selfish like this, but I need your help, Miss Miyu. I don't know how to get through this alone."

"You don't have to," Miyu murmured in a low voice. "That's why we're all here isn't it?"

"I suppose so," he agreed.

"We're a family."

They all had repeated the words so many times during the evening it seemed to be becoming a mantra.

"We'll help each other get through this," she said. "We're all broken and hurting. Together we can pick up the pieces and rebuild each other. Even though he doesn't act like, Kaneki is going to be the one who needs our help the most."

"I just don't know if I have the strength," Tooru mumbled, his breathing shaky as he fought back tears. His head drooped, his shoulders slumping as if the hefty weight of his emotions had become too much.

Miyu pushed down the covers, moving to the end of the bed where he sat. She wrapped her arms around him, placing her cheek against his back between his shoulder blades. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on leeching the soul crushing despondency away from him.

"You can do this. You can get through this. I have faith in you."

"That's one of the things I've always liked about you," Tooru sniffed. "You believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself. But, Miss Miyu, I really don't know if I can do this."

 _Yeah, I know how you feel._ Miyu wanted to admit her fear of her own weakness but said nothing. Tooru needed her to be strong for him at the moment.

"Tooru," she said, propping her chin on his shoulder. "What other choice do we have?"

"Hmmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right. Giving up really isn't an option. Is it?"

"No, it's not. We can't give up on ourselves or each other. We can't give up on Kaneki either. I'm sorry you're never be getting Sasaki back."

"I think that's what hurts the most."

 _You have no idea how much it all hurts._


End file.
